


Once Upon a Time

by celestiana (colourwhirled)



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, F/M, forever hiatus, my bad i suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-15
Updated: 2007-06-27
Packaged: 2019-01-22 12:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12481432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourwhirled/pseuds/celestiana
Summary: Prince Syaoran thinks he's fallen in love with the engaging and fiesty young Countess he meets one day at court. Little does he know that she is really Sakura, a servant girl who sleeps in the ashes of her fireplace...[originally posted on fanfiction.net from 2004-2007; x-posting here for archival]





	1. like cinderella

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: CCS is property of CLAMP and I do not own the script of the movie Ever After either. 
> 
> NOTES: this was originally written over 10 years ago and is incredibly juvenile. please excuse the lack of originality too. i've given up hope of finishing this.

 

**chapter one. like cinderella**

* * *

There was a knock at the door. A frantic scurrying ensued as a tall, aging man answered the door.

"Yes?"

The messenger at the door bowed slightly. "Begging your pardon, but I have a letter from Lord Fujitaka to his household." He waved a scroll importantly.

The butler blinked, as he took the scroll and nodded. "Thank you. I shall inform the young lady Kinomoto right away."

The messenger nodded as the butler closed the door. The butler eyed the scroll, before calling out loudly. "Mistress Sakura!"

His call rang through the large manor, echoing eerily. There was no answer.

"Mistress!" he called again.

Still no answer.

"Mistress Sakura!" he called desperately, making his way to the dining room, where several servants bustled about.

"What are you yelling about, Benkei?" another servant asked him, frowning. "You'll ruin your voice that way."

"I am sorry, Suki," the butler, Benkei, said shortly. "But a letter arrived for the young mistress, from her father. I expect she'd like to read it, so –"

"Oh, she's off with that Takashi rascal," the servant woman, Suki said airily. "She'll back before you know it, and a right old mess too, I'm sure."

As if punctuating her response, the faint admonishings of an older woman could be heard, and protestings of a young girl filled the hallway, as servants paused to listen.

"…running off with that  _servant boy_ , mistress, you couldn't be ashamed of yourself, could you? Day after day, the same old riddance,  _how_  a young lady of your breeding could run off with him, rolling around in the dirt, and look at you! Filthy!"

"But Yukari, Yamazaki is my best friend! And I  _like_  playing with him, it's fun!"

"Fun! Good heavens, child, what a young lady like you would find in a scoundrel like that! It's high time you picked yourself up, young miss, and groomed yourself properly, your father will be home soon, and I don't think he'd like it very much if he saw you rolling around in the mud, beating the daylights out of the poor boy –"

There were giggles.

"Of course he wouldn't mind, he lets me do it all the time," the young girl protested indignantly. "And Father finds it amusing, why can't I?"

The door burst open, revealing a mud-covered eight-year-old girl being dragged along with a disheveled servant, red in the face.

"Yukari! Mistress!" Suki cried. "Whatever took you so long? And Mistress Sakura, why are you so filthy?"

"What's that?" Sakura pointed to the scroll in Benkei's hand.

"It's a letter from your father, child," Benkei said, smiling gently. "And I don't think – whoa! Steady on there, girl!"

The young Sakura dashed to the butler and snatched the scroll from the butler's hand.

"Father's letter!" she cried, slitting the seal and unrolling it, and reading it out loud. The servants gathered around her, to hear what their master had to say.

" _My dearest Sakura, and most loyal helpers_ ," she began. The servants smiled, for Fujitaka was a kind man, he would never call them servants, but rather helpers.

" _It has been a most tiresome battle, and the skirmishes have lasted day in and day out, but finally, I am happy to announce that we have won the battle! Though there were great losses, and I grieve for those who were lost in the battlefield._

 _However, apart from sustaining a few minor scratches, I am well, and am returning in a fortnight. There is also something else that I must tell you, something which I am sure will make you all very happy_."

"I wonder what that is," Yukari mused, fanning herself.

"Hush, Yukari!  _While fighting a particularly nasty battle, one of my dearest friends was killed, the Captain Daidouji._ _He told me to look after his wife and daughters, and I agreed. However, after meeting with the Lady Daidouji, I must say that I think she would be a perfect mother to my little Sakura. Sakura, I am sure you will be very happy, for I will have a new bride and you, a mother…_ " Sakura trailed off, her eyes widening. Her mouth hung open, her eyes were filling with tears.

"No!" she shouted. The servants jumped as she shouted again. "No, no, no, no, no!"

And she burst into tears and fled from the room, her mud-caked gown and girdle rustling against her. The scroll lay on the ground, where she had dropped it in anger.

"Oh dear," Suki said, straightening. "I'd better check on her, to see if she's all right -"

"No, Suki," Benkei shook his head. "Leave her be. The poor child is just upset. Maybe if we left her alone for a while. Young Sakura has never known a mother, and perhaps she's just scared. It'll all be sorted out in good time, she's quite sensible and she'll learn that this will be the best thing that's happened here."

"I hope so," Yukari said, straightening up nervously. "Master Fujitaka deserves some peace, the poor man having to raise a little girl all by himself! And to think there will be more little girls running about this place! I can hardly stand one!"

"Now Yukari," Benkei smiled as he picked up the fallen scroll. "Those other girls won't be a wild thing like our Sakura. Don't forget, they were raised properly, by a Lady mother, no less. Perhaps this is what Sakura really needs. Who knows, maybe the Lady Daidouji can teach Sakura thing or to about manners. The poor child has never really had someone to teach her about how to be a lady."

Benkei and Yukari had been married for well over ten years, although they rarely acted like it. Suki shook her head.

"Well, let's get back to work," she said wearily. "If the mistress doesn't come down by suppertime, one of you go down and get her. How about you, Beneki? She's always seemed to listen to you, if not any other."

Beneki sighed. "All right then. Let's hope Sakura doesn't feel  _too_  strongly about this…"

* * *

Behind a bolted door, Sakura lay facedown in a pile of hay, her entire form shaking. She was hiding in the stables, it was her favorite place to hide. She had always preferred the warm stables to her room; chilly and forbidding, a cage for a young girl like herself, she'd found. The only part she loved about it was the bookshelf, housing different books from all over the world, her father had collected for her, and read to her one by one.

She sniffed and sat up, wiping her face with dirt-covered hands. Her dress was drenched with mud, her hands and face and hair caked with grime and sweat, and she smelt of the stable. But that didn't bother her. She lived a wild life, and Yukari often complained that if it weren't for her, Sakura would spend her days bathing in the mud and fighting with the lads, and never take another bath in her life. Which was true, but Sakura couldn't help it: she enjoyed the wild life too much. If it meant she didn't live like a proper lady, then she supposed that was it.

Her father didn't help at all. Rather than hiring a governess to teach her sewing and etiquette, he encouraged her to live life as she did, teaching her how to climb trees, swim in the estate lake, how to properly whip a rascal, and even more. Sakura had once had a brother, Touya, who had died during infancy, and often Sakura thought her father treated her like the son he'd once had, and lost.

Because, in reality, they were all the other had: he was her mother and father, she was both his son and daughter, and he had always promised her that it would remain like that. They would remain two peas in a pod, and there would never be a third party.

In the bookshelf, most of the volumes were leather bound and thick, but she had read all of them, both with her father's help and by herself, and she was proud, for she doubted most eight-year-old girls could read, let alone read thick volumes meant for men her father's age. One of her favorites was a collection of children's tales, however, and she had spent many a day thumbing through the wafer-thin pages, reading the fancy lettering and admiring the beautiful illustrations. Her favorite tale by far was  _The Little Cinder Girl_ , and it was about a young girl whose mother had passed away, leaving her father to bring up the girl. But the father remarried and left the daughter with a horrible stepmother and two horrible stepsisters, and they made her do all the housework, and named her Cinderella out of spite. And then, one day there was a ball and the sisters left Cinderella behind and her fairy godmother let her go and she and the prince fell in love but at the stroke of midnight, Cinderella ran away but left her slipper behind, and because her own feet were so very tiny, the prince looked through the kingdom and at last found Cinderella because her slipper fit her.

Sakura looked at her own feet. They were big and clumsy, like her hands. Not the kind of hands a prince would notice and remember. She wasn't slender and slight, she was rather tall and masculinely built. No, she was not a lady, but she was no Cinderella either. And she wasn't about to be! What if this new mother was horrible to her, and treated her like a servant? And there were even stepsisters along with it!

Sakura shook her head resolutely. No! She would not be a Cinderella! She would not let her father remarry and get away with it! Had he not promised her that they would always remain one and the same? Then why was he breaking his promise to her?

"He doesn't…love her…does he?" she stammered out loud.

The stable door opened.

"If he does, mistress Sakura, then maybe you should at least give him a chance," Benkei said softly, sitting beside Sakura. "And even if he doesn't, then you still should give the master a chance. Whatever Master Fujitaka has in mind is for your good as well as his."

Sakura sniffed as Benkei handed her a handkerchief , and dabbed at her eyes and nose.

"But he promised, Benkei," she said, a complaint in her voice. "He promised."

"Yes," Benkei agreed. "He did promise. But think about it. You will be a lady soon. Very soon, it will be time for you to attend finishing school, and then court, and then, perhaps, you will be getting married after that."

Sakura's eyes popped open. "I don't want to!" she cried. "I want to stay here at the manor forever! I don't want to leave you, or Yukari, or Suki, or any of the rest!"

Benkei stroked the little girl's hair. "That's what they all say, little mistress. But in the end, you'll see that this is for the better. You need a mother, and your father needs a wife. This house needs a lady, can't you see that? It will be for the best. You will have a mother, Sakura! Think of it! A mother! And two wonderful new sisters!"

Sakura sniffed. "I don't want anyone. What happens if they are horrible to me…what happens if I end up like the little cinder girl?"

Benkei snorted. "Mistress, that was a story. Things like that happen only in fairy tales. This is a wonderful lady, a wife of your father's friend. And they are well-bred as well. They can help you turn into a proper young lady rather than the little spitfire you are now."

"I don't want to." Sakura was obstinate.

Benkei shook his head. "Your mother would have wept, seeing you like this. Had you known her, she would have made you a lady, rather than the tree-climbing, water-treading, wild thing you are now."

Sakura thought carefully. Now that Benkei shone light upon it, how bad could this woman be? The Lady Daidouji was her father's friend's wife. Surely she could not be that bad! And she already had two daughters of her own, then could she not accept the daughter of her father's, if she loved him so much?

Deep down inside, Sakura knew Lady Daidouji could never mend the hole that Nadeshiko Amamiya Kinomoto had left behind. But now that she thought about it, having a stepmother didn't seem all that bad.

She just had no idea how wrong she was.

* * *

 


	2. new beginnings

 

**chapter two. new beginnings**

* * *

Before they knew it, a fortnight passed by speedily, and then, almost moments later, a new day was dawning. A new beginning of a new future for the Kinomoto family. There was a new addition to the family now, and even the servants were excited. Sakura found that despite herself, it sounded exciting. After all, she had never known a mother, and maybe a mother's love was what she needed. And besides, she reasoned to herself, even if she didn't like Sakura, she couldn't exactly say anything while her father was around, right? Sakura knew her father would never consent to live with a woman who treated his beloved daughter like filth.

"Hurry up, mistress! Hold still!" Yukari urged, trying to smooth the silken gown and skirts, but Sakura was squirming in her newfound excitement.

"But Yukari!" she cried. "It feels just like someone's birthday, I'm getting a mother  _and_  sisters all in one day! And Father is coming home too!"

"Yes, and if the Lady Daidouji sees you in any way short of proper, she'll pick herself up and go back to her own home, so you had best be on your best behavior, young lady," Yukari chided sternly, pulling the laces on the corset of the bodice expertly. "Now breathe in."

Sakura obliged, and Yukari tied the laces firmly, knotting the girdle as she did.

"Yukari!" Sakura shrieked. "I can't breathe!"

"You're fine," Yukari smiled, now running a brush through Sakura's wild auburn curls. "After years of panting like an animal, maybe you'll learn how to breathe like a lady if you wear these more often."

"But I feel dizzy," Sakura protested. "It's like torture!"

"Well, that's what the ladies of the court have to put up with in order to be presentable," Yukari said, smoothing out the now gentle waves and curls, as they fell softly down the girl's back. "Well, at least a fine head of hair is something remaining in the spitfire of a mistress, what do you say, Suki?"

"Mm." Suki bustled about, folding up the mud-stained clothes on the bed and stoking the fire in the fireplace. "I say the master deserves some happiness after all this time. Bringing up a child should be left to the women. Let the men fight the wars and let the women tend the house, that's what I always say."

"You speak sense," Yukari nodded, fingers deftly braiding the long auburn curls. "We left this young girl alone with a man for eight years, and look what's become of her! Hardly a lady left; more like a wild thing she is!"

"But I still cannot breathe!" Sakura complained. "Wild animal or not, everyone needs to breathe freely."

"You must get used to it, mistress," Suki said gravely, though there was a twinkle in her eye. "Now that there is a lady in the house, you will not be allowed in anything else. You will not be able to run freely, or play with those rascally lads from the other households."

"And good riddance too!" Yukari added heartily.

"I won't see Yamazaki again?" Sakura asked, her eyes widening.

"You might. But this time, if he sees you, he'll have to bow and say, 'May I be of service, young mistress?' "

The two servants giggled as Sakura went red in the face.

"He'd sooner throw stones at me than say that!" she said imperiously. Yukari finished braiding her hair and tied it with a green ribbon. She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"Now the mistress looks more like a lady, don't you think, Suki?"

"Yes," Suki nodded, and stepped out the doorway. "Hurry up, you two! The master arrives any moment!"

* * *

Sakura felt her breath catch as she waited by the door, standing in between Yukari and Suki. Benkei waited at the gate, his eyes watching carefully, examining the path, and who was coming this way.

The afternoon was chilly, Sakura felt herself shiver. The dress was itchy and uncomfortable, and the corset was too tight. Her shoes were hard and rough against her feet, which were swathed in silken stockings. She grimaced. If there was one thing she despised, it was the feeling of smooth silk against her callused feet, so rough from running across the estates barefoot.

"Stop fidgeting, mistress," Yukari muttered. "They'll be here soon."

As if in response, Benkei gave out yell. "It's the master!" he cried. "I can see his carriage! The master is coming home!"

There was an outburst of talk among the servants, as Benkei moved to the gate and opened it, with a surprising liquid movement for someone of his years. He waited by the open gate, waiting for the small carriage in the distance to enter.

Sakura felt her heart racing. Her father, her father was coming home! And so was the Lady Daidouji, and her stepsisters. How many did she have? She doubted there could be room in that carriage for more than four people. How many sisters would that make? Two?

Two stepsisters, a stepmother and a father, Sakura thought, a smile lighting her features. Today, she would meet them!

What would they look like? According to the rest of her father's letter, the Lady Daidouji was very beautiful. And very just. Sakura's heart rose as the carriage crossed the threshold to the estate. Soon. So soon…she would see them!

"Now mistress, calm yourself," Yukari softly said. "Don't go throwing yourself at them; the ladies of the court don't run around well in those skirts of theirs. So don't you try it."

The carriage halted in front of them. Sakura stopped herself from running toward the man who emerged from the carriage. Instead, she waited by the servants, trying to look as mature as she could.

Lord Fujitaka Kinomoto was graceful for his years. A tall man, he had tame dark hair, twinkling dark eyes and a soldier's built. Dressed in immaculate black, he had a sword buckled to his belt and his boots even shone gleefully.

"Welcome home, Master Fujitaka," Benkei bowed. "We are all overjoyed to see you home safe and sound."

"I am fine, Benkei," Fujitaka Kinomoto said, smiling gently. "Everything does look tidier hereabouts, though."

"We were not idly resting," Benkei said, breaking out of his bow. "But today is a joy of rejoicing. I see you have brought us a lady of the court."

"I have brought you all an entire household, Benkei," Fujitaka said, looking around. "But I seem to have misplaced my daughter. Have you seen her?"

"Why, look for yourself," Benkei pointed to where Sakura stood. "The young mistress has been keeping herself busy, you'll see."

Fujitaka's mouth dropped comically as he rubbed his eyes and stared. "Why, Sakura! Is that you? I was expecting to present a little wild thing, and instead, I get to show a young lady! Come here!"

Sakura, ignoring Yukari's earlier advice, bounded into her father's arms, her skirts flying.

"Father!" she cried, as he lifted her in the air. "It's so good to see you again!"

Fujitaka regarded his daughter. "Would you like to meet your new family?"

"Very much."

Fujitaka nodded to Benkei, who opened the carriage door again.

At first, a young girl, no more than two years senior to Sakura herself, stepped out. Her long black hair fell well below her knees, her gown was of heavy red satin and bedecked with jewels. Her ruby eyes surveyed the estate somewhat judgmentally.

Another girl, younger in age, disembarked after her sister, with wavy black hair that fell to her waist. Her gown was of an evening blue, and they matched her wide, innocent eyes perfectly. She also surveyed the estate, her gaze curious rather than judgmental. Her eyes met Sakura's and Sakura offered a half-smile, and in return, the girl smiled softly. The older one tossed her head impatiently.

And finally, Benkei extended his hand, as a milk-white hand grasped it, and out stepped one of the most beautiful ladies Sakura had ever seen. The Lady Daidouji's face was white as snow, her eyes liquid and dark. Her gown was a deep silver, embroidered with gold. She was the essence of ageless beauty preserved. Her face radiated soft excitement.

"Oh, Fujitaka!" she uttered softly. "It's exquisite!"

Her eyes settled on the little girl next to the Lord Fujitaka.

"And who do we have here?" she asked softly, yet somewhat pointedly. Sakura didn't care, she was just so happy that someone like the Lady Daidouji would be her new mother. She was beautiful, ladylike…just like her mother! And there was no judgment in her eyes, but a soft curiosity.

Fujitaka laughed as he placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "It seems as though the little monster blossomed overnight into a young lady! Dearest Sakura, I present to you the Lady Sonomi Daidouji, and her two daughters, Tomoyo and Meiling."

Sakura attempted a curtsey, feeling her knees creak. "Good afternoon, my lady," she said, her words smooth. "I hope the carriage journey was well. Pardon me for saying so, but your name is beautiful, it bears the sound of larks singing across a meadow."

The Lady Daidouji laughed, the sound of windchimes, Sakura thought.

"Oh, what a darling child!" she said. "You say she is eight, my lord? Yet she talks like a lady!"

Sakura couldn't help but feel attracted to this sweet lady. Who wouldn't? Her charms were many, and she could find no fault with this lady. Perhaps this would be for the better.

"Yes, she can be quite the lady when she feels like it," Fujitaka said fondly.

"Meiling…Tomoyo…greet your new stepsister," Sonomi said, waving a hand to her daughters.

They swept into a smooth curtsey, and at once Sakura felt her face heat up. Strange, now that she had witnessed such acts of fine etiquette, she wished that she had something to display also. Next to these fine creatures, she felt every bit the uncouth, feral child the servants had always called her.

Fujitaka extended an arm and Sonomi took it. "May I escort the lady inside? Sakura, please show your sisters where their chambers are."

* * *

Sakura sat cross-legged on her bed, watching her father emptying out a bag of books, and placing them on the shelves. In the grate, a fire roared merrily, for though it was still autumn, the night was still chilly. Sakura shivered and pulled her blanket around her and edged closer to the fire, feeling the warmth wash over her.

Her father shook the bag, satisfied that it was empty. He peered onto the shelf, and laughed lightly.

"I think we need to get a bigger shelf. We're running out of room here – and you're not getting any younger. You'll be reading bigger books soon."

Sakura pointed to a thick, leather-bound volume that gleamed in the firelight. "Which one's that?" she asked.

Fujitaka took out the book and smiled. "Thomas More. Possibly the dullest you can find. I doubt an eight-year-old will have much interest in it –"

Sakura shook her head, intrigued. "What's it called?"

"Utopia," her father replied. "All about the ideals of a utopian society. I don't think you'd find it very interesting –"

"You mean like paradise?" Sakura asked, her eyes shining. "May I see that?"

Fujitaka shook his head smiling, but gave her the book anyway. "It's thick for an eight-year-old, Sakura. Maybe one day when you're a bit older, you can understand it better. Even  _I_  don't understand some of it, and I'm a full-grown man."

"But I like the name," Sakura said, stroking the brand new leather face of the book. "Utopia."

"You judge too much on names," her father laughed. "If one has a nice name, you'll like it. Is that why you took to your new mother so well?"

Sakura nodded eagerly. "She does justice to her name," she said, eyes bright. "I like Tomoyo too, her name is so beautiful, just like her. I think she looks like a doll, with her white face and long hair and big eyes."

Fujitaka laughed. "Yes, she is beautiful in her own way, but many people would not think so."

"Why not?" Sakura insisted. "She looks beautiful to me."

Fujitaka shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. How about Meiling?"

"Meiling is also beautiful," Sakura agreed. "But her – her courtesy toward others is – is less than substantial, I fear."

Fujitaka stared at her solemnly for a good minute, before bursting into laughter.

"Oh, my daughter, you will be the envy of the court when you grow older," he said, stroking her cheek fondly. "Doubtless Sonomi will make you a fine woman, and your words hold much wisdom, even now."

Sakura smiled back wearily. Somehow now, becoming a lady didn't seem all that bad.

Her father yawned widely, and then stretched. "It's been a long day."

Sakura nodded, her eyes fixed on him. "And you're a husband again."

Fujitaka chuckled. "Yes, a husband again, but a father first and foremost. You and I have been two peas in a pod, just the two of us. I suppose this will take some getting used to." He surveyed his young daughter intelligibly. "You cannot have been this keen the first time you read my letter, could you?"

Sakura blushed, but shook her head. "No," she agreed. "I was not."

"What were you thinking at the time?" her father pressed.

Sakura sighed. "Well," she said. "While reading the letter, at first I was shocked and angry at you, for forgetting Mother so easily. I – I thought you had found a replacement mother, and that you had broken your promise to me, and had forgotten about me."

Fujitaka's eyebrows had risen. "Sakura," he said reproachfully. "Could I have done that to you?"

"No," she said smiling. "And that's why I changed my mind, when Benkei came and talked it over with me. You see, I was scared – scared that I might end up like the little cinder girl, scrubbing the fireplace while her stepmother and stepsisters went to the ball."

Her father burst out laughing. "Oh Sakura," he said, shaking his head. "I think you have begun to read a little too much. Imagine thinking that!"

Sakura grinned sheepishly. "Well…I was scared, and…wasn't thinking rationally. But I've gotten over it. I like them."

"Do you?"

Sakura nodded eagerly. "Very much."

Her father gazed at her thoughtfully. So like her mother, with her fair face and clear green eyes. Her mother had been free-spirited too, and Sakura had inherited that. His daughter was brave, strong and true, despite what others said, he believed that she had not been led astray.

"Good," he said, tucking her into bed. "Because I have to go to China in a month. My general sent me a letter, I have to go."

Sakura sat up straight. "But you just got back!"

"I know," her father said softly. "But I'll be back in three weeks."

"Two," Sakura said obstinately.

"Three."

"Two."

"Three!"

"Three."

"Two –" Fujitaka paused, frowning. Sakura burst out giggling.

"Yay!" she cried. "You said so yourself! Two weeks! That's it!"

Her father sighed melodramatically. "Alright,  _two_. Good night, Sakura."

"Good night, Father."

* * *

Fujitaka strapped on his gloves before stepping out the door, and comically acting surprised to see the entire household assembled before him, wearing similar melancholic expressions.

"I've never seen so many gloomy faces looking at me before, not even on the battlefield!" he cried, a smile lighting his features. "I shall be back in two weeks! I'm only paying the general a visit in China, and then going to visit the assembled camps around the border. I will not even be fighting! I will be back in two weeks!"

"Then go," Sonomi said, wrapping her arms around him. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you will return."

Fujitaka smiling, planting a kiss on her cheek before turning to his three daughters. "Perhaps by then the three of you will know each other better, right?" He turned to Sakura, who wore the darkest look of the three. "I'm leaving you in charge of the family, alright? Teach them the way around here. Your stepmother doesn't seem to know how to get her hands dirty."

Sonomi tossed her head arrogantly, giving her stepdaughter a glance far from friendly. Sakura shivered. Her father turned to Tomoyo and Meiling.

"And you two young ladies," he said in a mock-serious voice that made Tomoyo smile and Meiling scowl, "mind that there is a wild creature loose. I'm leaving it to you two to…help her out a tad, if you know what I mean?"

"Don't worry, stepfather. She is in good hands," Tomoyo said softly, smiling before Meiling nudged her in the ribs, and Tomoyo fell silent.

Fujitaka gave his new family one last look before turning to his horse, which waited before the assembled household. He swung into the saddle effortlessly, sliding his boots into the stirrups. The horse nickered gently. Benkei handed him the whip.

"Safe journey, master Fujitaka. We will be here when you return," he said, bowing.

Fujitaka nodded, his face white and drawn, like he hadn't slept that night. Benkei, noting his face, said quickly, "Is anything the matter, sire?"

Fujitaka gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Old war wound. Nothing big. I'd best be going…farewell…"

And he nudged the horse in the side, and they took off, galloping on the worn path to the gate, the sound of iron-shod hooves clattering against the ground echoing in the air…

"Well come along ladies," Sonomi clapped her hands. "Back to your lessons."

She turned to go, Meiling following suit, but Sakura halted them.

"Wait!" she said importantly. "It's tradition, he always waves at the gate."

Sonomi looked at her disdainfully before picking up one of her many skirts and walking inside the house. Meiling followed suit, tossing Sakura a similar disdainful glance before following her mother indoors. Tomoyo looked at Sakura reluctantly before following them as well.

Sakura felt her face heat up before racing to the front of the line, watching the distant rider galloping away, nearly at the gate.

"Come on, Father," she murmured. "You're supposed to wave…wave goodbye to us!"

Almost as a cruel response, Fujitaka slumped over and fell off the horse with a sickening thud.

The sight hit Sakura like a cold slap to the face. "Father!" she screamed, racing toward the fallen man, her heart pounding in her ears. Questions pounded inside her head…why had he fallen off his horse? What was wrong? He had looked ill that morning, he had dismissed it as an old war wound, but why was he on the ground then? Why had he fallen, and not gotten up yet?

She knelt by her father, facedown on the gravelly path. His rider's cloak was strewn about his, she pushed at his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Father!" she was still crying, trying to wake him. He was a joker, her father was, maybe any time now, he would jump up, and grin madly and tell them how gullible they all were.

She would have screamed at him then. This was no joke, it was sickening and too real…

"Father, please get up!" she sobbed, trying to turn him over. Then she heard voices and saw others joining them. Benkei, Suki…even Sonomi was somehow there, and between the both of them, they managed to turn him over, pale drawn face to the sky.

"Fujitaka…" Sonomi breathed, stroking his face. "Oh my lord…"

"Father…" Sakura's tears had silenced somewhat, though her face was still wet with falling tears. She was still holding his shoulder, trying to move him, wake him…

His blank eyes twitched for a second, and for a moment, Sakura was ready to scream at him for playing such a cruel joke…but this was no joke. His eyes met his daughter's eyes and he drew in a shaky, pain-filled breath.

"Fujitaka…" Sonomi gasped, her hand running though hair slick with cold sweat.

But he had eyes only for his daughter.

"…Sakura…" he managed, in an aged voice shy of a croak, and Sakura felt something inside her snap, the tears were falling harder and her father wasn't getting up.

"Father…" she was still pushing at his shoulder, trying to get him up. "Please wake up…"

His eyes were misting over, his breathing was hollow.

"…S – Sakura…" he croaked again, his mouth opening and closing and finding no words, no air to breathe.

Then it dawned upon her. This was no joke. This was reality, pure reality, sick reality and she couldn't escape it. Her father was going away. For good.

"Father!" she cried softly, finding his gloved hand and clasping it firmly. "You can't go…you can't…please come back inside, we'll get the best healer, they'll make it better, please don't go…"

He smiled a painful smile. "I…I love you…" he managed, drawing his last breaths. "I love you…"

And he lay perfectly still, his eyes still glazed over.

Sakura's tears fell faster still. Her father was gone, gone! Everyone she knew and cared about were gone! First her mother, then her brother whom she'd never known, and now her father! She was alone, alone in this world, alone with the servants and a stepfamily she barely knew.

Like the little cinder girl…

Sakura felt something stir within her. She would not be like Cinderella! Her father could not leave her! He couldn't!

"Father, please come back!" she cried, shaking him. "Don't leave me!"

And she broke down sobbing.

"Oh, Fujitaka!" Sonomi cried, tears streaming down her face. "You cannot leave me here!" She took a deep breath before sobbing in a louder voice. "You cannot leave me here alone!"

Sakura felt the hands of Yukari and Suki trying to lead her away, but she brushed them off.

"Leave me!" she commanded, before reaching for her father again. "Oh Father, please come back…"

It would be ten years before another man entered her life. One who was still young in so many ways…

* * *

 


	3. a prince's woes

 

**chapter three. a prince's woes**

* * *

It was cold. Grey. Wet. He didn't know what he was doing outside. And with that pigheaded fool of a princess as well! It didn't help that he knew his mother and father were spying on him, watching his every move.

Syaoran Li was the crown prince of the largest kingdom in the east – divided into three self-warring states: China, Japan and Hong Kong. And at the moment, China and Japan were involved in a gruesome battle with each other. It had been going on and off for over ten years now. And, his anxious parents worried over how to return peace to an angry China, who was attacking a defending Japan for their economics.

Finally, they decided, to his utmost outrage, to fix his alliance with the young duchess of China, and there she was, following him no matter how quickly he walked, or how far he went into the garden. From what he knew, the abandoned garden was a mess of thorns and insects, and women hated those. So why was she not going away?

He paused, half-concealed within a wild creeper, its thorns prickling slightly, insects crawling around everywhere. He waited to hear a satisfying scream, or a gulp…anything at all, to keep that spoiled fool away from him. Nothing.

"Xiao-Lang?"

He groaned. "That's  _your highness_  to you, duchess."

She let out a silvery laugh that sounded like a horse's whinny. How he despised her, with her too-tight gown and over made-up face.

"Oh, Xiao-Lang," she said sweetly. "You always were strange. Why do you insist on being so formal? We  _are_  engaged, after all…" She took a step closer. Almost voluntarily, Syaoran shuddered and stepped deeper into the creeping vines.

"That is a sorry misconception," he said coldly, watching the sugary smile falter on her face with satisfaction. "One that I intend to correct, and soon. Then you and your parents can go back to China where you belong."

She pouted, her eyebrows rising. "But Xiao-Lang –"

"Enough, Hui-Ying," he raised a hand, arresting her advance. "I've told you many times before, I'm just not interested. I'm sure there are many other princes out there who will find you beautiful and all, but I'm not one of them. Quite frankly, I can't even stand you. And I certainly don't enjoy it when you try and force yourself on me, I mean honestly – have a bit of shame, woman!"

She stood stock still, staring at him, her bottom lip quivering. Then finally, she burst into tears and dashed back to the castle, trying not to trip over her many skirts. Syaoran sighed and held his head, trying to think. It was not a good day. Now surely his parents would come after him, they would have his head for chasing off yet another prospective bride.

"Lady troubles?"

Syaoran turned. The captain of the castle guard, Eriol Hirigawaza, and his best friend, had materialized at his side.

"You'd know better than anyone else," he groaned. "What am I going to do?"

Eriol shrugged. "You know, I think they are seriously trying to go through with this engagement, your agreement or not." He faced his friend, eyes twinkling. "If I were you, I'd try hard to not make it to dinner tonight."

Syaoran ran a hand through his thick dark hair, but didn't say a word.

"So, what did you tell this one?" Eriol asked slyly. "Seemed overkeen, didn't she?"

"I just told her what I told everyone else," Syaoran said dismissively. "That I wasn't interested, and I couldn't stand her, and I didn't like my parents forcing her on me…" He broke off at Eriol's laughter. "What? She wouldn't get the message unless I told her outright!"

Eriol shook his head sympathetically. "You are in a whole lot of trouble if she blabs. Because all we need is China to fuel its battle with Japan and the next thing you know, half of our kingdom is gone."

Syaoran chewed his lip nervously. "I just hate my parents' crazy ideas. I'm twenty-three. For God's sake, I can make my own decisions! Why do they still have to fix an alliance? I know what I want, and I won't settle for anything less, I really will not!"

Eriol patted his friend's shoulder. "It's all right, Syaoran. They'll be mad for a bit, but they'll cool down. If I were you, I'd disappear for a bit."

Syaoran sweat-dropped. "Again?"

Eriol shrugged. "As long as you keep rejecting suitor after suitor, you're going to have to make an escape from the palace. Because the King Xiao-Lang and Queen Yelan don't like rejections. They really don't."

Syaoran sighed resignedly, as Eriol placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be waiting with the horse an hour before the sun goes down. And I'll break the news to them at dinner. That should give you plenty of time to get a head start. You know the drill."

"All too well," Syaoran nodded. "Thank you, Eriol. I'll be in my chamber."

* * *

He could hear the yells of his parents in their chamber three floors below. Syaoran knew that his father wouldn't stand for his poor behavior in the garden with the duchess Jin Hui-Ying. But what could he do? His parents had sprung this on him and now, they had to face the consequences. The Chinese duke had presented his daughter and Syaoran had refused. Then what was the problem?

The problem was that most princes were married by the time they turned eighteen. And here was Syaoran, five years after the deadline, with his parents forcing literally a proposal a week. He must have turned down every single noblewoman on the continent! And he was still searching! Not that it was hard to find a proposal; oh no. Syaoran was a devilishly handsome man, with the largest kingdom in the world, and riches enough to make a woman's mouth water. Proposals came easily. But Syaoran could not choose with no options. Literally, he did not want a fixed alliance. His parents just refused to see that.

He stared at the looking-glass. Staring back at him was a tall man with a soldier's build, with thick dark hair and intense, grave amber eyes. Why, if he listened close enough, he could hear words forming in the row downstairs.

"…can't believe his nerve! Yelan, if he doesn't go along with this…"

"…you cannot match an owl with an eagle and expect no worse than ruffled feathers, Xiao-Lang! He needs time!"

"Time! Why, that boy's been waiting five years now! How much more does he need?"

"He's not a boy anymore! He needs some space of his own, and how can he possibly respect your decisions if you cannot respect his?"

"What he needs is a good whipping."

Syaoran groaned, and flopped onto the bed. Every time the same argument, over and over. It was like he was living in a cage, and he yearned to leave it. He didn't want to become king, it was too much responsibility. Oh, he'd ran away from home so many times before…but he always meant to come back. This time, however, he wondered if he could leave, and for good…

He'd let Eriol decide that.

* * *

It was dinnertime. At the dining room of the Li palace, there was tension in the air. King Xiao-Lang sat at the head of the table, his face stony. Beside him was Queen Yelan, her fine-featured face worried. Across from them was the Duke of China, the Duke Jin Lian, and his wife, the Duchess Jin Jia. Their daughter, the duchess Jin Hui-Ying, sat at the end of the table, beside an empty seat. Nobody said a word.

The Duke of China was livid, his face scarlet, and his eyes containing suppressed fury. His wife, the Duchess, was shooting furtive glances at him, and occasionally patting his shoulder, in order to keep him calm, but she too, was shaking with cold fury. And the young Hui-Ying sat delicately, her eyes red and puffy, as though she had been crying. More than once, they lingered on the empty seat beside her. The question was in everyone's eyes, finally voiced aloud by an impatient King Xiao-Lang.

"Where is he?" he asked coldly of the trembling servant.

"I – I don't know, Your Majesty," he gulped nervously, feeling all eyes on him. "He has been in his chamber all afternoon, and he is not responding to us –"

"Are you mad?" Xiao-Lang bellowed. "I don't care if he barricaded the door, you will open that door, and tell my son to get his cowardly face down here where it belongs!"

The servant nodded, shaking, before leaving.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he stuttered before rushing out the door, a nervous wreck.

The King ran a hand through his slightly graying hair, muttering to himself. "…every time the same blasted excuse, I don't care if I have to send out half the guard, but if he's pulled an escape again…"

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," the Duke Lian said coldly, "but perhaps we should reconsider this offer. Clearly, your son's upbringing has been…somewhat lacking in general courtesy to others, the way he has treated my daughter, don't you think?"

Yelan pursed her lips, but didn't say a word. Xiao-Lang paused, and flushed a deep scarlet.

"There has been no insufficiency in our son's upbringing, Lian," he said, somewhat apologetic. "However, he does tend to…have a lack of respect for others' wishes, I'm afraid…"

"Children's behavior is a reflection of the parents, my lord," the Duchess Jia now spoke. "How can we possibly entrust our daughter with someone like your son, who has hurt her and then has no gall to face her? Is this a nobleman of which we speak?"

"Hold your tongue, Jia," Yelan spoke now, her eyes narrowing. "You speak of noblemen? I speak of my son. If it is one of those pompous, foolish noblemen you desire, then I am afraid you shall have to look elsewhere, because my son is who he is, and he will not change for anyone, let me make that very clear. So if you are so unhappy with this engagement, by all means you may cancel it –"

" _Yelan_!" Xiao-Lang hissed. "You are embarrassing us."

"And they are embarrassing themselves," Yelan spoke firmly. After all, she was their Queen, and they had to respect her words. "If they insisted to bring this proposal to our door, then they have no right to tell us what the conditions are. If they were so interested in Syaoran's hand for their daughter, then maybe they should not tell us how to raise our son to make a suitable groom for the young duchess, hm?"

The Chinese royal family blushed.

"I was only saying that a bit more – ah –discipline should be exercised over the boy, Your Majesty," Lian said gruffly.

Yelan blinked coolly. "That boy you are talking about, Lian, is my son, the crown prince of the Middle Kingdom, and your prospective son-in-law. How will we warm to your daughter as ours, when you cannot even call Syaoran by his proper, given name? Perhaps the question of Syaoran's upbringing should be lifted, my question is more over  _your_  upbringing."

"Yelan! Please!" Xiao-Lang snapped. "That will be enough."

The duke was glowing redder than the goblet of wine at his plate.

"My lady," he said thunderously. "Forgive me for saying so, but the courtesy of your hall has lessened of late."

Yelan scowled, but didn't say a word.

"And furthermore, the prince's identity could be dirt, for all I care. He has made Hui-Ying cry, and I will not forgive him until I see his sorry face and see him beg on his knees for mercy –"

"Your Majesty!"

The five seated at the table turned to face Eriol, red in the face as he dashed into the dining room, breathing heavily. He bowed.

"What is it, Hirigawaza?" Xiao-Lang asked dismissively. "We were discussing something rather important."

"I understand, Your Majesty," Eriol nodded, speaking breathlessly. "But there are more important matters. The Prince Syaoran has run away again!"

Yelan jumped to her feet. "What?" she cried. "You mean he's run away?  _Again_?"

Eriol nodded gravely. "Yes. The servants told me that the Prince was not opening his door, and when they finally broke it down, it was empty, and furthermore, the Prince's horse is gone too!"

Yelan sank back into her seat slowly, hand on her forehead. "Oh God," she murmured. "Syaoran, why do you do this to me?"

Xiao-Lang stood up, his voice commanding regality. "Hirigawaza," he said in a booming voice. "You will take the entire castle guard, and scour the countryside until you bring him back. I don't care if you spend the rest of the year out there, but you will  _not_  return until you have him with you. Do you understand?"

Eriol bowed. "I understand, sire." And with a swish of his cloak, he left.

Xiao-Lang sat back down again, breathing heavily.

The Duke Lian spoke with renewed confidence. "See? See?" he said, a sneer crossing his face. "Their Majesties King Xiao-Lang and Queen Yelan are so proud of their son, so proud of his upbringing. Yet where is there cowardly son? Gone! Ran away from home! And this isn't the first time, I hear?"

He paused, watching their expressions turn stony. "And they were poking fingers at  _our_  upbringings, Jia! I think that leaving the boy out of this, those two have not had enough control over the boy!"

"Silence!" Xiao-Lang bellowed. Duke Lian paused, his lip curling.

"It is true that our son is a bit foolish," Xiao-Lang said. "However, if you are so opposed to him, you may take your daughter and leave, if you feel he is not worthy."

The Duke held up a hand. "Wait a minute," he said coldly. "I came here to make my daughter the future Queen of the Middle kingdom, and I will not rest until I see her on that throne! You mark my words,  _Your Majesty_ , that the Chinese will never relinquish their attack on the Japanese until I see my daughter as Queen!"

And he leant closer. "Beware, Xiao-Lang. Your son is out there alone. Would see him a casualty of his own foolishness?"

"Was that a threat, Lian?" Xiao-Lang seemed taken aback by the Duke.

Lian shrugged. "You may think of it however you wish, but know that for the best interests of your kingdom's future…"

He trailed off threateningly, before motioning to his family. "Come Jia, Hui-Ying. We seem to have overstayed our welcome here." They all rose, and the Duke gazed levelly at the King Xiao-Lang. "But we will be back in a month. By then, I expect you to have your answer…and your son as well. Farewell for now."

And they left, leaving behind an ashen-faced Queen Yelan, and a livid King Xiao-Lang.

* * *

 


	4. an angel of mercy

 

**chapter four. an angel of mercy**

* * *

Miles away from the castle of the Middle kingdom, the dawn broke over the estate once belonging to the late Lord Fujitaka Kinomoto. The manor looked somewhat forbidding, the gardens slightly overrun, the entire household seemed stamped with a coldness that leeched away the former joy and simplicity of the Kinomoto home.

Ten years had changed much. Ten years had seen the Lady Sonomi Daidouji raise her two daughters into flowering ladies of the court, beautiful young ladies who could smile, talk, dance, eat, walk and think as a proper lady should. The two young daughters had indeed flourished into fine creatures, and they would do their mother proud.

Ten years had also seen a sadder story take place – the story of a father and his daughter, the story of a father and his second wife. The story of how the father left his daughter one day, with one whom he believed he could trust. The story of a second wife, who could not bear to look into the eyes of her stepdaughter, and see the face of what she had lost, and condemned her to live a life of servitude and humility.

And thus, as the rooster crowed at dawn's first light, a prone figure by the fireplace stirred. She sat up slowly, blinking in the dim morning light. She stared at the book she had pillowed in her hands. The worn copy of  _Utopia_  was a reassuring sight. She could almost hear her father's voice echoing to her, kindly.

_"It's thick for an eight-year-old, Sakura. Maybe one day when you're a bit older, you can understand it better. Even I don't understand some of it, and I'm a full-grown man."_

Sakura smiled. Oh, she understood it well enough, by the young age of eleven, she was reading it thoroughly by firelight and nodding in agreement. Though not the most entertaining of books, it was undoubtedly her favorite.

She wished her father was here. She wished he could see what he had left behind so soon.

She could hear his voice in her head, see his face in her mind, arms crossed, frowning comically.

_Down so soon, little Sakura?_ _Why, it's only been a matter of years. Nothing serious. And I haven't really gone anywhere, have I, little one? Come on now, get up, off your lazy hide…_

Sakura smiled softly.  _All right, Father, you win. I'm getting up._

As she got up, she could still hear his voice in her ears.  _That's my girl, Sakura. Sweet, and strong and always true. Your mother would have been proud…_

Sakura's eyes misted over. "And so would you," she whispered softly, before wiping her eyes hastily, and making her way to the table, where she took a length of leather strip and tied her long, deep red hair out of her face. She changed from her worn, cinder-stained nightgown to a plain, serviceable gown, and tied the stained apron over top of it. She slipped her feet into the leather shoes and made her way to the pond, splashing her face with the icy water. She gazed at her reflection critically. Reflected in the water was a girl of eighteen, with cold green eyes and a wild tangle of red hair that fell to her waist. She was tall, and so slim her figure was almost boyish, and her servant's gown fitted her like a sack.

 _Well, what did you expect?_  She demanded of herself.  _A princess of Japan, maybe?_

Her entire form was covered with stains, her hair and face smudged with soot, her simple attire stained with the goings around the manor. Fruit, vegetable, food, wine, meat, honey…all had a tale to tell on the front of her apron.

_Like Cinderella…_

Sakura shrugged the thought out of her head. Cinderella was the stuff of fairy tales, a girl who existed in stories that were bizarre and untrue. Stories that belonged in front of the fireplace on a late winter's eve, and nowhere else.

But still she looked closer. If anyone looked closely, they could see that beneath the grime, the skin was soft and white. The lips were full and pink. The feet, once large and awkward, now were proportionately sized: not too big, not too small. The face was a reassuring heart-shape, the hands, though now callused and rough, were firm and slender-fingered…

 _Forget it, Sakura_ , she told herself wearily.  _You're a servant, and that's all you'll ever be. You'll never be your mother's daughter. Besides, shouldn't you be happy? Isn't that what you always wanted? To stay here and never leave?_

She made her way around the garden. It was quiet, and peaceful. She stared at the row of sturdy young saplings near the perimeter fence. She remembered her father and her, almost thirteen long years ago, planting the seeds that would grow into oaks and rowans and willows. Already, they towered two feet above her head, the oak bearing broad leaves of mint green.

Further down the garden were the orchards. Sakura walked purposefully toward the orchards, knowing that the fruits would be ripening: apples and pears would be plentiful today. She adjusted the basket in her hands. Every spring it was the same ordeal: check the trees, pick the best of the fallen fruit for the mistress's breakfast and tuck the rest in for the pigs. The servants, or what was left of them, were reduced to bread and cheese, with some dried fruit, if they were lucky.

Sakura's mind flared with anger as she thought of Benkei. Good, faithful Benkei, almost like a second father to her. He who had raised her lovingly when her father was absent, who had secretly spoiled her with rare-gotten treats while hiding in the stables from the wrath of a thoroughly frustrated Yukari. He who, despite his accumulation of years, faithfully kept to the manor of his late master, remained here out of loyalty to those who had first employed him…was being shipped to Armorica on the Lady Sonomi's accusation as a thief.

She snorted to herself as she bent down to pick up a green apple that had fallen from its tree. Of course. Benkei was a thief. Sure. Like Yoko, Rikako and Masayo were thieves as well. They too had been shipped off to Armorica, where people spoke that the wealthy landlords had use for helping hands, and paid a fine price for the thieves and crooks that the royal family of the Middle Kingdom shipped over. More often than not, the numerous servants the Lady Sonomi had shipped off had fetched her a fine price of silver, enough to pay her estate taxes to the crown family, as the profits on the estate's farm were dwindling somewhat.

Sakura stared at the apple she had picked off the ground. It was green and hard, and undoubtedly very sour. Why the apples were falling before their time was beyond her. But as her basket grew heavier steadily, and the number of apples on the ground diminished, Sakura noted that on the apple tree leading to the path by the lake, the apples were blushing a rosy shade, enough to retain a certain tartness, but still be unmistakably sweet and juicy – the way an apple should be.

She eyed her basket, filled to the brim with sour green apples. A mischievous smile crossed her face. Who said servants had last pick? Today, she and the servants would savor the sweetest of apples, while the Lady of the house, and her two spoiled daughters broke their teeth on apples hard as iron. She set her basket down and slipped the rosy apples in the pocket of her apron. One for her…one for Suki…two for Yukari, the poor woman. She was almost always on the verge of tears, shaken to the core that the Lady had dared to ship her husband off to the other side of the world as some petty crook.

Sakura tried not to think about it, but she wondered, as she filled her apron with more apples, what she would do if she had some money, enough to pay off Benkei's debt. How would she persuade the Lady to free Benkei and have him return back home? Surely the Lady Sonomi would not feel Yukari's loss as her own. No, Sonomi Daidouji was selfish and self-centered, she would not release Benkei without some personal gain.

She froze. Echoing across the still morning air was the sound of hooves. She could see dust rising in the distance. The next thing she knew, nearly twenty men on horses were galloping down the pathway that led from the town to the estate property. They were bearing a standard emblazoned with the symbol of the Oriental royal family, the royal family of the Middle Kingdom who lived a good distance away from here. So why were they coming here? And why were they coming through the back?

The man leading the small group spotted Sakura. He bid his men wait with a gesture of his hand, while he motioned to Sakura to join him. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

"Good morning, sire," she bowed. She knew this man. He often accompanied the prince when he came visiting Meiling. This man had navy hair and dark eyes hidden behind spectacles.

"We're scouring the countryside for Prince Xiao-Lang. Have you seen him recently?" he asked.

Sakura shook her head. "If the Lady Daidouji spotted the prince within a league of our manor, she would have leapt over fire to have him spend time with mistress Meiling."

The man laughed. "Well, thank you anyway."

He galloped back to his men, who galloped off in the distance. She shook her head. The prince had gone missing again?

She shrugged. What business was it of hers? As far as she was concerned, all the rich nobles treated their servants horribly, and deserved to rot. What difference was it if it were a young prince or an aging lady?

She turned away from the tree, and began to slowly make her way back to the manor, carefully balancing the many apples in her apron, while the basket was perched precariously on her hip.

It was then from beyond the hedge that separated the Kinomoto estate from the outside world, that Sakura heard it. A swift rustling, a horse's whinny, a man's curses…curious, Sakura dropped the apples on the ground and clutching her basket firmly, made her way cautiously beyond the hedge and gasped.

For on her father's old horse was a cloaked man, his face covered and he was mistreating the poor beast so cruelly, Sakura's face contorted with anger. The thief was stealing her father's horse, and hadn't the sense to lure it away kindly!

She nimbly jumped over the hedge, picked a hard green apple out of her basket, took aim and threw the apple with all her strength! The small green missile struck true, the force of its impact knocking the man clear off the horse!

"Thief!" she cried, picking another apple and throwing it at him. "Maybe next time you'll not ogle others' treasure!"

The man scrambled for cover, trying to escape the barrage of apples she sent flying at him in her fury.

"Please miss, my horse slipped his shoe and I had no other way –"

"So you steal my father's horse?" Sakura demanded. "Were you planning to return it anytime soon?"

The man attempted to mount the horse, but a well-thrown apple rapped his hand sharply, and he doubled over, nursing it. Another apple pelted his back and he fell over.

"Get out! Or I'll call the Lady of the house!"

The man scrambled to his feet, and pulled down his hood. Chestnut brown hair was plastered to his face, which was flushed. Glaring at her were two cold amber eyes. The face looked familiar…too familiar…

Sakura fell to her knees.

"Your Highness!" she cried. "Forgive me, I did not see you properly."

The prince regarded her somewhat sarcastically, before replying, "Your aim would suggest otherwise, young lady."

Sakura could feel blood rushing to her face. She was really in for it now. If the Lady Daidouji ever got wind of this, she'd be off to Armorica for sure.

"And what punishment does His Highness decree for my foolishness?" she asked, her voice shaking somewhat. A pox on the nobility and their ill-use of power! A pox on all of them!

Syaoran was surprised by her question. On one hand, she had almost killed him with her apples. On the other hand, if he decreed a punishment, he'd risk being found by the guard, if they hadn't heard the commotion already. Besides, the servant was probably a good girl, a little simple maybe, and sure to speak, no less.

"None today," he said finally, mounting the horse. "I shall be lenient, but I do ask for your silence. Not a word to anyone about this."

Sakura felt her confusion grow. "The guard – back there –"

He nodded. "And that is why I demand your silence." He withdrew his purse and emptied its contents. "For your obedience." He galloped off.

* * *

Back at the manor, the Lady Daidouji and her daughters were in high ill humor.

Meiling stared at her breakfast critically. "I asked for four-minute eggs, not four one-minute eggs, Yukari, and where in the of God is the bread!"

Yukari bowed hurriedly. "I – It's just coming out of the oven, mistress." She hurried off to the kitchens.

Sonomi eyed her daughter shrewdly, her nose twitched slightly. "Meiling, my dear, what have I told you about tone?"

Tomoyo answered, while picking her handkerchief and slipping it daintily on her lap. "A lady of good breeding should never have to raise her voice louder than the gentle hum of a whisper."

Sonomi threw Tomoyo a disapproving look. "Tomoyo, do not speak unless to improve the silence."

Tomoyo rolled her eyes.

"I was not shrill, Mother, I was resonate. A lady of good breeding  _should_  know the difference," Meiling amended, throwing her sister a dirty look.

Sonomi smirked. "I doubt your style of resonance would be permitted in the court, dear."

Meiling sniffed loudly. "Well, no one's going to the court, except for that Chinese cow they call a duchess!"

Sonomi attempted to placate her irked daughter. "My dear Meiling, nothing is ever final until you're dead, and even then, God negotiates." She stared. "And where is the fruit? Sakura!"

In the kitchens, Sakura finished rinsing the green apples, laughing to herself. She heard the Lady's call. "I'm just coming, Milady!" she called, before meeting Suki's eyes. "And the apples are hard as rocks, be careful not to bite too hard," she finished in an undertone. Suki was not amused as Yukari bustled in.

"Is the bread ready? Only the lady is in one of her moods today."

Suki pulled the tray out of the oven and inspected it closely. "It'll have to do," she said, grinning. "Now, where are the real apples?"

Sakura pointed to a basket in the corner. "I stashed them in there. Have a look, Suki, Yukari, go see!"

Suki picked up the basket and felt it. "It's very light," she observed, making a face.

Sakura smiled. "Some apples have a lot more worth than others."

Suki emptied its contents onto the table. Instead of the proposed apples, were a pile of gold coins. Yukari gasped.

"Where did you get those?" she demanded, mouth gaping open.

Sakura smiled. "From a merciful angel, and I know just what I'm going to do with them."

Yukari glanced at Sakura, disbelief in her eyes. "You mean-?"

Sakura nodded. "Benkei was like a father to me, Yukari. I will not see him abandoned like so."

"But he's been sold!" Suki said in a whisper. "He's bound for Armorica!"

Sakura picked up the basket of green apples and the platter of bread. "This is my home, Suki, I will not see the lady Daidouji break it in half."

From the hallway, another call could be heard.

"We are waiting!"

Sakura glanced at the door warily, before Suki tucked the coins into Sakura's apron pocket. "Keep it with you, or they're as good as hers!"

* * *

Sakura placed the bread and fruit on the table.

"Good morning Milady, Meiling, Tomoyo," she said dully.

"Hello," Tomoyo smiled warmly, before Meiling shot her a glare. Tomoyo glanced out the window busily, while Sonomi fixed Sakura with a glare.

"What took you so long?"

Sakura paused. "I fell off the ladder in the orchard, Milady, and hurt my side –"

Sonomi didn't spare her a second glance. "If you're here to ask for the day off, you can forget about it."

"Please, Milady?" Sakura asked pleadingly. "It's just a matter of one day, and I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow –"

"Maybe if you spent less time sleeping in the fireplace, you wouldn't be half as stiff," Meiling pointed out, reaching for an apple. "If you wish to smell like a pig, you might as well go sleep with  _them_." She took a bite of her apple. The sound was loud and echoed across the room. Sonomi looked mortified.

"Why, Meiling!" she cried, throwing a hand to her head. "That was atrocious! What have I taught you about table manners? Ladies do not eat apples like the heathen do!"

Meiling looked slightly sheepish. Tomoyo smiled lightly, something that Sonomi registered.

"Tomoyo,  _darling_ , it would not suit you to be so amused by this. Rather, the both of you should revise your skills for an extra hour today! I have never seen such poor etiquette in my life!"

She turned to Sakura. "Very well, you have your day off today, but I expect you to be in extra early tomorrow!"

And she turned to the apple on her plate. She tried to cut it. "And  _do_  something about these apples, they are hard as rocks!"

Sakura bowed, trying to keep her face straight. "Yes, Milady. Thank you, Milady, you are too kind."

* * *

 


	5. on the run

 

**chapter five. on the run**

* * *

Syaoran paused, listening carefully. Heart beating fast, he could hear the palace guard in close pursuit. He inwardly groaned. That Eriol! It was so difficult to know who that boy's loyalties lay with! On one hand, he had helped Syaoran escape. On the other hand, he always made sure the prince didn't run far away.

 _Eriol Hirigiwaza…when I take the throne, you'll be dismissed, so help me_. Syaoran thought, irritated.

As if in response, he could hear Eriol's voice shout out a command, and immediately, the sound of approaching hooves grew dimmer and dimmer…

"Well," Syaoran murmured softly. "You seem to have come up trumps after all, Hirigiwaza."

He set off in the opposite direction at a brisk canter.

The horse nickered softly in protest.

"Oh, shut up," Syaoran yawned. "You're not the only one who's tired."

It had been a long night, and he was sore and stiff all over. An hour's head start wasn't nearly enough to stay comfortably ahead of the guard. And…what would happen to him when they caught him? Syaoran wasn't nearly naïve enough to believe that he was going to escape them for good. For one thing, the guard was relentless. For another, his father would put a bounty on his head so high, even the wild animals would come looking for him.

Was it possible for his parents to disown him? Syaoran thought idly. He knew his father's patience was wearing thin. He threatened to take away Syaoran's crown by the hour. But would he really? Surprisingly, Syaoran wouldn't have cared much if he did. Palace life had worn his patience down. Rules, rules and more rules! And another self-absorbed, simpering lady to be his bride every week.

He had enough of it all.

"Damn!" he whispered, stopping the horse abruptly. They were in a clearing. Not only was he in plain sight, he had been spotted by the occupant of a traveling cart.

They weren't alone. The cart seemed to be attacked by a motley band of scruffy men on rugged-looking horses.

 _Gypsies_ , Syaoran thought in disgust. He turned the other way, only to the hear the trumpets of the guard approaching again.

Frustrated, he turned around again, and galloped past the cart, hoping the occupant of the cart wouldn't notice. But as he neared, the gypsies disappeared, and a tall black-haired man threw himself in front of Syaoran's horse.

"Please help me, Sire!" he cried. "Those beasts, they stole my book – I've spent my whole life working on it, and in the wrong hands –"

"The guard will assist you," Syaoran said, taken aback, "I'm in no position to –"

"Please!" the man begged. "It's my life's work, I beg of you!"

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said through gritted teeth. "But no promises."

"No promises," the man repeated.

Syaoran rolled his eyes and tore off at a fierce gallop. He could see a lone gypsy, riding off ahead, with a vivid red thing clutched in his arms.  _Faster_ , Syaoran thought.  _We've almost caught up to him…_

The gypsy stiffened suddenly and fell off his horse. Confused, Syaoran stopped and drew up beside the man. A long, sturdy spearhaft was sticking straight out of the bushes. It had obviously knocked the man off his horse.

 _Where did the spear come from?_  Syaoran wondered, and got off his horse, and bent down to reach for the book…

"Pleasure to see you all in one piece, Syaoran," said a voice in his ear.

Syaoran whipped around. Eriol was standing there.

And all around them were the members of the palace guard.

* * *

Sakura knocked on a heavy oaken door. Seconds later, it was opened by a ruffled-looking boy about her age.

"What do you want now, Sakura?" he asked.

"I need your help, Yamazaki," she said apologetically.

He rolled his eyes, before beckoning her inside. "Things are crazy around here anyhow. A little more couldn't hurt. What do you need?"

Sakura took a deep breath. "Well…"

* * *

The black-haired man by the traveling cart sat up anxiously at the sound of approaching hooves. He turned and saw Syaoran, surrounded by six horse-mounted men, clutching the red book.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" he cried, running in front of the astounded guard.

Eriol's eyes twinkled. "What's this, Your Highness?"

Syaoran growled at him. "I passed by him shortly. He was in need of my assistance." He dismounted the horse awkwardly, and staggered to the man, and pressed the book in his hands.

"I thought I'd see the world for one last time, before I ended up playing maid to some self-absorbed lady and her trifling woes."

"Then why did you stop?" the man asked, peering at him with wide black eyes, hidden behind spectacles.

Syaoran sighed. "I lack conviction."

The man smiled. "You see, this book you rescued, it is no ordinary book. It has within it all the elements of the land, air and sky, bound by a potent magic bond…"

Several of the men sniggered.

The man threw them an icy look. "Yes, of course, men like you, common folk with little knowledge beyond the mundane could never open this book. But you never know with those gypsies. On one hand, they seem to work spells and witchcraft with their potions and magic powders and fire dances and whatnot. But on the other hand, it seems merely pretentious trickery of the light and eyes. Still, one must be careful with those, you know. Never know what can happen if the magic within this book falls into the wrong hands…"

"Excuse me," Syaoran asked bluntly, "but  _who_  are you?"

"Ah," the man's smile widened. "How foolish of me. Allow me to introduce myself. No wonder you thought me mad or a little overindulgent of the ale. I am a magician by profession. Clow Reed, at your service." He bowed.

" _Clow Reed_?" Syaoran cried. "As in,  _the_  Clow Reed!"

The man smiled modestly. "Oh, I've heard the rumours myself, out here in my travels – spread more than a few by myself, you know. It's mostly the stuff of peoples' imagination, really, but –"

Syaoran grabbed him by the shoulders. "They say you have the power to control a man's mind, and to bend him to your will!"

Clow Reed shrugged. "Well, it all really depends on the strength of the man's mind. If he's as shallow and narrow-minded as yourself, then I would have no difficulty at all. Ladies, on the other hand, are exceptionally difficult to work with. I don't understand why. Perhaps it's their indecisiveness, or perhaps their minds are a lot further along in developments in comparison to that of a man –"

"Would you be able to stop the war between China and Japan?" Syaoran asked.

Reed shrugged again. "I'm sure it couldn't be too difficult. However, I really don't know, having never done something of that magnitude before –"

"What about my father?" Syaoran pressed. "Would you be able to work some spell on him that would stop his persistence in pressing an engagement for me, and just leave me be?"

Reed's smile disappeared. "I could do it within the blink of an eye, Your Highness. Although, my cart seems to be a little damaged and with the spring flooding coming in, the cart will not last for very long…"

Syaoran nodded.

"How would you like to join me at my home in the palace, sir?"

* * *

" _Are you out of your mind!_ "

That was Yamazaki's reaction after Sakura outlined her plan to him. Now he jumped up and began pacing around the room worriedly.

"What's gotten into you?" Sakura asked, frowning.

"I could ask  _you_  the same question!" Yamazaki exclaimed. "This plan of yours – it's pure pigheadedness, and nothing more!"

"How is it pigheaded?" Sakura asked.

Yamazaki rolled his eyes. "It's far too risky, that's what! You think you can just waltz into the royal court of the Middle Kingdom, get through the palace guards and simply take Benkei back out of a jail cell that's also locked and guarded?"

"I never said that," Sakura said, dumbfounded. "You're ahead of yourself. I'll simply just dress as a courtier, and go to the court that way –"

"And what will you say when the guards ask you who you are? Or escort you out of your carriage?" Yamazaki demanded. "And while we're on the subject, how do you plan on arriving there? You haven't a hope of stealing one off the Lady Daidouji!"

"The palace guards are out fishing for the Crown Prince, who's run away from home again," Sakura informed him. "So I can simply stroll in there and not worry about anything."

"You'll simply stroll in there!" Yamazaki spluttered. "And what will you do once you're in? beg the King to release Benkei?"

"They have no reason to refuse," Sakura said. "It happens all the time. You send a servant off to be shipped, but once you have enough to pay off the debt, you go back and pay it off and get your servant back."

"You're too naïve," Yamazaki scoffed. "You live in your world all the time. Haven't you ever heard of politics? Not everyone lives according to your utopian ideals, you know! And have you ever given a thought of what will happen to you if you get caught? Forget Benkei,  _you'll_  be shipped off to Armorica too!"

Sakura smiled. "Oh Yamazaki, I know you'd do that for me. Admit it!"

Yamazaki snorted. "Of course I would! I'd prance around like some nobleman, even though I've never been to court! And guess what? Neither have you!"

"Then I won't be recognized," Sakura said patiently. "Now, what would a noblewoman wear?"

Yamazaki groaned. "Sakura, I'm worried…"

"Just show me where you keep your mistress's old gowns," Sakura said through gritted teeth. "We can salvage something decent from there."

Yamazaki smiled for the first time and shook his head. "Oh no," he said. "You're not going to court in some mouldy old gown, Sakura. At court, status is everything, and the more ordinary your gown, the lower your status. No one would look at you twice if you wear one of those."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Sakura asked, hands on hips. "I can't very well walk into the royal court naked, can I?"

Yamazaki grinned. "That would certainly catch the men's attention."

Sakura glared at him, and he sobered up almost immediately.

"You need something handmade, designed for you, and something very,  _very_  expensive-looking," Yamazaki said. "You're not likely to find that in that pile of gowns."

"I'm not likely to find that  _anywhere_!" Sakura moaned. "What am I going to do?"

"Well…" Yamazaki said slyly, "I'm not exactly a court tailor, but I tend to…experiment myself. Let's see what we have here…"

He shoved an old painting aside, to reveal an old, yet study, locked closet of some sort. He fiddled around with the lock, and opened the door. Sakura could catch a glimpse of some different coloured fabrics, before Yamazaki gently pulled something out of the cupboard, and aired it out.

"Will this suit the young countess?"

" _Countess?_ "

But Sakura could only stare. In Yamazaki's hands was a gown, most beautifully cut, of a heavy deep red silk. She took the hem of the dress in her hands and ran her fingers around the fine gold embroidery along the hem.

"Where did you get this?" she asked. "It's more expensive than all of Lady Daidouji's gowns put together!"

"I made it," Yamazaki said. "Of course, my mistress sends me to the marketplace for fabric, but she always overestimates the price. I always end up bringing back twice as much fabric than necessary for my lady's gowns."

"And she lets you keep the fabric?" Sakura asked, sceptical.

"Of course not. She doesn't know. Anyhow, this is what I do in my spare time," he continued, somewhat embarrassed. "Try it on. See if it fits."

Sakura took the gown, and Yamazaki directed her into the next room. She slipped off her stained work dress, and slid on the heavy red one. She pulled the drawstrings on the back, and tied it tight. She breathed lightly and looked into the mirror, and gasped.

Yamazaki's handiwork was flawless. The gown clung to her slim figure, and tapered slightly at the waist, before flaring out into a wide, sweeping skirt. It matched the deep red of her hair, and brought out her green eyes.

"May I come in?" Yamazaki called.

"Of course," Sakura replied, still staring at the mirror.

Yamazaki entered and smiled. "So it fits. That's good. I was – I was a bit worried about that."

"It fits perfectly!" Sakura gasped. "And it's – it's so beautiful!"

Yamazaki blushed. "We have to do something with your hair," he said.

* * *

"No. Too small."

The merchant stared incredulously at the Lady Daidouji.

"You want something bigger than that, Milady?" he asked, frowning.

"All of our servants wear jewels of this size," Meiling said, motioning to the egg-sized brooch pinned to her bodice. "Show me something fit for a queen!"

She returned the brooch to the merchant.

The merchant bent down and brought out a large ornamental box. "How about this one?" he asked, pulling it out. "Pure silver, and hand-worked diamond. Her Majesty Queen Yelan herself has been eying it for years!"

"What about this one?" Sonomi interrupted, motioning to a giant, fist-sized pendant, intricately inlaid with thousands of glittering stones.

The merchant's face fell. "That's a little beyond your reach, milady," he said, picking it up. "One hundred hundred gold pieces, and it's not up for bargaining, either!"

Sonomi didn't blink. "Here's your money," she said, passing her purse over the counter. You'll find a hundred gold coins in there. Keep the purse, too, it's handworked satin, and should fetch you another dozen." She scooped up the pendant. "Come along, Meiling, Tomoyo."

Meiling took the pendant from her mother, and fastened it to the neckline of her wide scoop neck.

"Meiling can barely hold her head up," Tomoyo said matter-of-factly. "If it were any heavier, she'd fall over flat on her face."

Meiling tossed her younger sister a derisive glare.

"Well, that's why the prince is coming to see me, and not you," she said scathingly. "Who'd have a second look at you? You can barely keep your head straight as is!"

"Meiling," Sonomi said warningly. "Come in, now."

They had reached the gates of the estate, and were about to enter the mansion, when trumpets sounded. Sonomi turned, and gasped.

The entire palace guard was waiting at the gate. Two men on horses cantered down the avenue. She recognized one of them as Prince Syaoran herself.

What luck! She muttered to Meiling, "Now's your chance. Here comes the prince!"

"Your Highness!" she cried, sweeping into a curtsey, as Syaoran dismounted. "What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I've – er – come to return your horse, madam," Syaoran stuttered.

Sonomi eyebrows shot up. "Was it missing?"

Syaoran shook his head. "No, I took the liberty of borrowing it earlier. I'm afraid I scared the living daylights out of one of your servants. A young girl, with quite a good arm, actually." He fought back a smile.

Sonomi's eyes narrowed. "She's mute, Your Highness."

"Really?" Syaoran's brow furrowed. "She seemed to have quite a sharp tongue on her. Quite strong-minded for a servant, I thought."

"She will be punished, my lord," Sonomi said swiftly.

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary –" Syaoran began, but was cut off by Sonomi.

"His Highness is always welcome to anything he needs and wishes!" she said airily. "Oh, did I introduce my daughters? Your Highness, may I present Meiling Rae Daidouji…and Tomoyo."

Syaoran fought to roll his eyes. Beside him, Eriol fought a snicker.

"You may indeed," he said stiffly. "Ladies, I must be going now…"

Sonomi stepped forward.

"We're so looking forward to celebrating your engagement to the Chinese duchess. You  _are_  engaged, are you not?"

"Well…" Syaoran shifted uncomfortably, "I hear there have been some new developments with regards to China…" He fought to change to subject. "Meiling, that pendant is…"  _Ugly._ "…stunning…" he finished.

Meiling smiled modestly.

"Why, this old thing?" she said sweetly. "You are far too kind."

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. Eriol fought another snicker. Syaoran groaned inwardly. It would be a long day.

* * *


	6. countess sakura

 

**chapter six. countess sakura**

* * *

"Has His Highness been found yet?"

"I don't know. What about his engagement to the Duchess Jin Hui-Ying of China? I heard it was finalized yesterday."

"Nonsense!  _I_  heard that the Prince ran away  _because_  he didn't want to marry that Chinese pig!"

"Well, you can hardly blame him: she's not much to look at, and she'd most likely be hard-pressed to follow in Her Majesty's footsteps! Does the duchess even know how to speak in Japanese?"

" _I_  heard she had an affair with the Chinese Count…"

Snatches of conversation followed Sakura wherever she went. As she had predicted, the guard had been absent from the gates, and she had simply walked blithely in. Thanks to Yamazaki's handiwork, and some of her own prowess, none of the other courtiers cast a second glance at her.

_Now where would I find Benkei?_

"May I help the lady?" asked a voice behind her.

Sakura spun around. There stood an older man, richly dressed, looking at her curiously.

"I was lost," Sakura said. "I don't know where to go…"

The man nodded. "So the lady has a purpose here today! What would that be?"

"I am here to settle a domestic dispute," Sakura said tentatively. "My servant was sold to Armorica, and I am here to pay the debt against him."

"Ah…" The man stroked his face in thought. "You might want to go down there," he pointed to a set of stone stairs leading downward to another stone yard, "They're shipping a cart of men to Armorica right now, I believe. If your man isn't in that cart, you can pay the overseer a visit and get your servant back. Most likely."

"Thank you," Sakura nodded, and rushed off. Her skirts billowed all around her as she fought to keep her balance. The corset was tight, the shoes were small and pinched her toes uncomfortably. Her hair had been swept back into a graceful knot at the back of her head, though the mass of ornaments and jewels pinned to the knot was keeping her straining to keep her head straight. And all the while, she fought admirably to hold her head high, like any other courtier would.

She caught sight of the cart as she descended the steps. A row of men were being herded into a caged cart. They were chained to one another, and Sakura felt her insides boiling as she saw Benkei grouped in among the group of miserable men.

 _God, help me_ , she thought desperately.

She identified a short, stout man as the overseer, and saw him lock the men into the cart, and proceed to the front of the cart, grabbing the reins of the horses in front of him. He pulled sharply on them, and the horses began to trot.

"Excuse me!" Sakura called in an voice filled with the authority one might expect from a countess. True to his station, the man glanced over at her, and pulled a halt on the horses.

"May I help you?" he asked disdainfully. "Generally, women aren't allowed here–"

"I wish to address the issue of this man here," Sakura cut him off, pointing to Benkei, who was staring at her open-mouthed. "He is my servant, and I'm here to pay the debt against him."

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid you're too late. He's been bought and paid for."

Sakura eyed him levelly. "I can pay you two hundred gold pieces."

The man squirmed slightly. "I'm sorry, madam, but orders are orders. I'm under strict command to take these men to the coast."

"I demand that you release him at once," Sakura said coldly, "otherwise I assure you I  _will_  take the matter to the King!"

The man didn't even blink. "The king's the one who sold him," he said impatiently. "He's now the property of some other man."

Sakura grew livid. "He's not property at all! He is a man, a living man, and what do you think of yourself, chaining him up like some calf led to the butcher's? I demand you release him this minute!"

The man had enough. "Get out of my way, woman!" he roared, raising his whip.

"How dare you raise your voice to a member of the royal court!" said another voice, cold, regal, commanding…

Sakura felt her insides freeze. She knew that voice. It was the Prince of the Middle Kingdom, Syaoran Li, and she knew that if he recognized her…

"Your…Your Highness…" the man stammered, as Sakura slowly turned around and curtsied. Thankfully, Prince Syaoran's hard eyes were fixed solely on the overseer.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" the prince demanded.

"I – I meant no disrespect," the man stuttered, "it's – it's just that I'm – I'm following orders, Sire, it's my job to take these thieves to the coast–"

Sakura spoke up despite herself. "A servant is not a thief, Your Highness, and if they are, they cannot help themselves."

Prince Syaoran's eyes fell upon her for the first time, and he raised his eyebrows. "Would you care to enlighten us, milady?"

Sakura felt her face flush, but she mentally took a deep breath and continued calmly, steadily.

"If you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners corrupted from infancy, then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded, Your Highness, but that you first make thieves, and then punish them?"

The Prince stared at her, with some reluctant amazement expressed on his face.

"Well…" he managed weakly. "There you have it."

He turned his gaze to the overseer. "Release her servant. Now."

It was a command, and the man, grumbling, jumped off the cart and unlocked the door, went inside the cart, and unlocked Benkei's chains. Benkei staggered to the edge of the cart, and dismounted rather unsteadily. Sakura rushed to his side, supporting his steps.

"I thought…I was looking at…Nadeshiko…" he managed weakly.

Sakura stared at Benkei. His face was pale, and his bones showed starkly underneath his skin, and he looked sickly.

"Meet me at the bridge," she muttered under her breath. Out loud she said, "Prepare the horses! We will leave at once!"

As if following her instructions, Benkei staggered off to the outer walls of the courtyard.

Sakura curtsied before the prince again, who was still watching her intently. "My sincerest thanks to you, Your Highness."

She turned away, walking quickly, praying that Prince Syaoran hadn't recognized her – or her voice. If he did, then not only did she face a life of imprisonment and eventual shipping to Armorica, she would also incur the wrath of Sonomi Daidouji, who would be bound to find out.

"Have we met?"

The question caught her off guard. The prince had fallen in step with her.

"I…I do not believe so, Sire," Sakura lied, avoiding eye contact.

The prince frowned. "That's strange. I could have sworn on my mother that I knew every single courtier in the province…"

A curse on him! He knew!

"Well…you see, Your Highness…I'm here…visiting a cousin," Sakura lied again. Her insides squirmed. She hated telling lies. Especially to the High Prince.

"Who?" Prince Syaoran asked.

"My cousin," Sakura replied tersely.

"Yes, you happen to have said that," the Prince said, a hint of amusement entering his voice. "Which one?"

"The…only one I have, Your Highness," Sakura said vaguely.

Prince Syaoran frowned again. "Are you deliberately coy, or do you honestly refuse to tell me your name?"

"His Highness wanted to know my name?" Sakura inquired innocently.

The prince sighed. "All right then. Have it your way."

There was an awkward silence. Sakura felt awkward, as she was earning many a curious glance from the other courtiers, owing to the Prince's presence at her side.

"Who is your cousin, then?" Prince Syaoran asked lightly. "I might call upon  _her_  to find out who you are. I must say, anyone who can quote Thomas More as passionately as yourself would be well worth the effort."

Sakura froze and turned to face him, in awe. "His Highness has read  _Utopia_?" she asked.

The prince shrugged. "I found it sentimental and dull. I must confess to my lady that the goings of the everyday rustic bores me to no end!"

Sakura turned away from him, her face falling. "Would I be so bold as to assume the prince does not converse with many peasants, then?"

The prince chuckled mirthlessly. Sakura decided it was not a pleasant sound.

"No, of course not!" he said. "Naturally."

"Excuse me for my pertinence, Your Highness," she said, fighting to keep her voice calm, "but there is nothing natural about this – this ' _everyday rustic_ '. It is what defines your country's character, and that requires  _respect_ , not your idle ignorance!"

Sakura turned around and began to walk again.  _And I could have sworn he was different!_  She thought icily.

Prince Syaoran caught up with her. "Am I to assume that you find me arrogant?"

 _Just leave me alone!_  Sakura thought impatiently.

"You gave one man back his life, but you didn't even spare a glance at the others," Sakura pointed out, unable to keep the coldness out of her voice.

There was another pause.

Finally, Prince Syaoran glanced at her, and Sakura could see some sort of pleading in his eyes.

"Please," he said, and for the first time, there was some sort of sincerity in his voice. "I beg of you. Just a name. Any name."

Sakura thought fast, and against her will, she spoke the first name that came to her mind.

"Nadeshiko Amamiya," she blurted out. " _Countess_  Nadeshiko Amamiya, is the only name I can leave you with, I'm afraid."

The Prince smiled. Sakura didn't know why she felt her face heating up.

"There," he said. "That wasn't very difficult, now was it?"

Before Sakura could even think of a reply, they were interrupted by a tall regal lady, who Sakura recognized as the Queen Yelan, who had grabbed her son's attention for long enough. She didn't even bother with a farewell. She had overstayed her time at the court, and any time soon, the guard would resume their post at the gate. She turned and walked out the gate. Once she was out of sight of the gates of the court, she broke into a run.

"Ah, Syaoran, you're back!" Yelan said warmly.

Syaoran winced. Outside, she displayed an image of grandeur and grace, but once they were in private, he knew exactly what kind of a reaction was in store for him.

"Hello, Mother," he said wearily.

Yelan's eyes narrowed slightly. "The King would like a word with you. Several, to be exact."

Syaoran sighed. "He usually does. And they're never new."

* * *

The King Xiao-Lang didn't even glance up at Syaoran as he entered the King's study.

"You,  _sir_ , are restricted to the palace grounds," the King said pointedly.

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "Are you putting  _me_  under house arrest, Your Majesty?" he asked lightly.

Xiao-Lang banged his fists on the wooden surface of his desk. Ink bottles rattled and papers flew everywhere.

"Don't mock me!" he thundered. "If you were man enough to look your own troubles in the eye, then we would not be here today, would we, boy?"

"So what are you going to do?" Syaoran demanded. "Ship me off to Armorica with the next batch of –" He bit his lip, remembering the Countess Amamiya's words.

" _You_  are the Crown Prince!" King Xiao-Lang cried, exasperated.

"And the last time I looked, Father, it was  _my_  life," Syaoran retorted. "And I'm not about to give it up, all because of your stupid contract with that stupid Chinese buffoon –"

Yelan stepped in at the nick of time.

"Xiao-Lang, relax before you have a stroke," she said imperially. "Syaoran, would you please listen to what your Father says, just this once? By being born to privilege, you have to fulfill specific…obligations."

"Excuse me, Mother," Syaoran gritted his teeth. "But marriage to a complete stranger never made anyone in this room very happy!"

Xiao-Lang stood up abruptly.

"You  _will_  marry Hui-Ying within the next fortnight," he said in a voice laden with venom, "or you  _will_  suffer the consequences!"

"What's it going to be then, Father?" Syaoran asked meekly. "Hot oil, or the rack?"

Xiao-Lang let out a yell of frustration.

"I will simply…" he fought for words, "…deny you your crown…and live forever!"

Syaoran nodded curtly.

"Good," he said shortly. "Agreed. I don't want it."

And he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Xiao-Lang collapsed on his chair, aggravated beyond belief.

"He's  _your_  son!" he shot at Yelan. " _You_  handle him, then!"

* * *

 


	7. compromising

 

**chapter seven. compromising**

* * *

It was late afternoon on Sonomi Daidouji's estate. Spring was settling in, and that meant a mountainload of work awaited the poor servants, from tilling the soil to planting seeds to weeding the garden, and all that came in between. The servants, mostly aged and deserving of a lifetime of rest, instead scurried about, wearying themselves with this backbreaking labour. In the orchard, Suki trimmed the branches of a particularly obstinate pear tree, while further down the road, Yukari toiled with the pick, turning the soil, which lay hard from the cold winter.

It had been a hard winter for them. Longer, and colder than usual. And as the Lady Sonomi had spent so much money on expensive trinkets for her daughter Meiling, additional resources for the estate farm had dwindled. Food often ran low, and many times Yukari had gone to bed hungry. It had been hard for Yukari. Sonomi had sold her husband to the king, who had in turn sent him to Armorica. It had been hardest for Yukari – this winter had been exceptionally long for her.

It was Suki who interrupted her thoughts. Suki, perched high on a ladder, with a clear view of the wide fields of the estate, could see two figures approaching slowly, and suddenly, she shrieked out loud, her face alight with joy.

"Yukari!" she cried, dropping her shears and scrabbling off the ladder, surprisingly agile for one as old as she. "Yukari!  _Look_!"

Yukari let go of her pick, and made her way to Suki's side, squinting. In the distance she could see Sakura, a bundle of flowers in one hand, and a mass of red cloth draped over the other. And beside her, was a man – old and wiry, but still walking tall –

" _Benkei_!" Yukari cried, her hands flying to her face. Suki's arms rested about her shoulders, pushing her forward, and Yukari ran. Ran like she hadn't believed herself able to in years. She sprinted halfway across the field, and threw herself upon the old man, sobbing uncontrollably.

"You're back!" she cried, planting a kiss on his face. "Oh, you're back! I thought I'd never see you again –"

"Yukari –" Benkei began weakly, and then he broke out into sobs as well. "I missed you so much!"

Suki sidled up to Yukari's side, and put her arms around both of them.

"There," she said, her own voice shaky with tears. "It's all right now. Yukari, Benkei's back, and with no chance of leaving us ever again. Cry now, it's been a long winter for all of us."

The three of them embraced each other, and Sakura watched them, her own eyes moist. Benkei and Yukari. They loved each other so passionately, even in this old age! And Suki – a more faithful friend to both had never been found. The three of them had loved her like parents when she was a child, and even more so after the Lady Daidouji had come. It was the least she could possibly have done for Yukari – to bring Benkei back. It was the least she could have done for Benkei, a man she considered her second father.

Behind the tearful reunion, a surge of anger gripped Sakura. The Lady Sonomi had much to answer for.

* * *

Meiling and Tomoyo were playing chess in the drawing room.

"Check," Tomoyo said, moving her black knight to a different square on the board, removing Meiling's castle.

Meiling frowned. Her king was threatened by the knight. If she moved to the left, she was right in the path of Tomoyo's bishop.

Without a word, Meiling moved another piece, removing Tomoyo's knight from the board.

"You can't do that!" Tomoyo said angrily. "That's against the rules!"

"Says who?" Meiling challenged.

"You can't move your queen like that!" Tomoyo argued. "It's common sense!"

"Just move already," Meiling yawned.

"Redo your move," Tomoyo said firmly. "A lady of breeding doesn't cheat."

Meiling raised an eyebrow, and at that moment, Sakura walked into the drawing room, with logs for the fire.

"I'm not the only one here who's in trouble," she said pointedly.

Sakura straightened after placing the logs in the fireplace.

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled. Sonomi appeared in the doorway, locking eyes with her stepdaughter, and her face grew livid.

"You  _stupid_  girl!" she shouted, approaching Sakura, who scrambled backward and sank into a chair. "How could you do this to me? To Meiling?"

"What?" Sakura asked, heart beating wildly. "What did I do?"

" _Think_ ," Meiling taunted from her seat at the chess table. "Think  _very_  hard."

Sakura gulped. Did they  _know_  that she had gone to court that day and lied about herself, simply to release Benkei? Was she doomed to be sent to Armorica?

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tomoyo, who had caught her eye and deliberately examining her knight.

 _Knights_? Sakura was confused. Then it dawned upon her.

"Horses?" she asked, baffled.

Sonomi's eyebrow shot up. "Yes," she said slowly. "Go on."

 _Go on?_  At the table, Meiling had tossed Tomoyo a sharp glare. Tomoyo innocently placed her knight back on the board, and removed Meiling's queen from the field. Her sister didn't notice.

It dawned upon Sakura.

"Father's horse," she said slowly. "The prince – stole it this morning."

Sonomi clapped in mock admiration.

" _Yes_!" she said exasperatedly. "Maybe  _that_  explains why he came to return it today!"

_Oh…_

"You stupid girl!" Sonomi repeated angrily. " _How_  could you forget to mention it?! Is  _that_  why you were late this morning? Because you were out there distracting the prince?"

Sakura shook her head, but to no avail.

"So you  _lied_  to me,  _and_  you allowed him to surprise us this afternoon!" Sonomi spat.

"I swear, I didn't mean to!" Sakura said desperately. "I didn't even see him! I thought he was just a common thief stealing our horse and I stopped him –" She froze, realizing in horror that she'd spoken too much.

_Oh no…_

"You did  _what_?!" Sonomi spluttered, her eyes ablaze.

Meiling was giggling silently. It was not a pretty sight.

"You – you  _stopped_  the prince?" Sonomi cried. " _How_?"

"Er –" Sakura faltered. "I – er – threw an apple at him."

Sonomi's jaw dropped. She sank into a chair, hands to her head, eyes closed in horror.

"You threw an apple at the Prince!" she said softly. "He was treated like a thief! On my land! How can I show my face to him? How will  _Meiling_  show her face to him?"

"Well done, Cinderella," Meiling said derisively. "You get top marks for ignorance."

"I didn't know it was him!" Sakura defended herself. "He had his face covered! Was I supposed to recognize his royal feet or something?"

"Silence!" Sonomi exploded. "You've been allowed to do too much, and now you think yourself – oh, I don't have the words for this. I am appalled by your behaviour, Sakura. Now get out of my sight before I lose my head and send you somewhere you'll never return from!"

Sakura didn't need telling twice. She ran out of the drawing room, so relieved that Sonomi and Meiling were so preoccupied over the small incident in the morning, they hadn't found out about her escapade in court.

Nor had they noticed that Benkei was back in the house.

Aside from that, what harm was done? Sonomi and Meiling had lost their tempers, but that was nothing new. Sonomi had a reason to be embarrassed in front of Prince Syaoran. And the Prince himself had a few new bruises on his feet.

 _Serves him right_ , Sakura thought resolutely.  _Pompous, arrogant man_.

"… _am I to assume that you find me arrogant?_ " he had asked, visibly affronted.

 _Yes!_  Sakura exploded, as she joined Suki in the chicken coop, tossing feed to them.

She noticed a small smile lurking on Suki's face.

"What?" she asked curiously, abandoning her bad temper.

"I just wish I'd been there," Suki smiled.

"Where?" Sakura was nonplussed.

"At court!" Suki said, laughing. "Seeing you all dressed up, and talking to the Prince like a lady!"

Sakura rolled her eyes. " _Scolding_  him is more accurate," she muttered. "And for good reason. The man is arrogant, spoiled, and singularly insufferable."

"Indeed?" Suki cocked an eyebrow amusedly.

"Yes," Sakura said resolutely. "And I suppose that stems from the fact that he's wealthy, and controls more land than most folk here have a right to dream about!"

"I'll bet he's very charming," Suki said dreamily. "Once you get to know him."

"I don't  _want_  to know him!" Sakura returned, taken aback. "I'll leave that to Meiling – she seems quite keen. In retrospect, I think they deserve each other."

Suki dropped her basket of feed.

"In the name of all that's good, be quiet!" she exclaimed. "The only throne I want to see  _her_  sitting on is the one I have to scrub every day!"

Sakura giggled.

"After all," she said, imitating the Lady Sonomi, "we cannot have a royal bottom sitting on a dirty chaise, now can we?"

* * *

It was late evening, and the sun had set. In the palace, Syaoran walked on the balcony, his mother two paces behind him.

"Who?" she asked distractedly.

Syaoran sighed.

"The Countess…Nadeshiko Amamiya," he said, the name sounding foreign on his lips. "She's a cousin of…well…actually, I don't really know who her cousin is."

"I see," Queen Yelan nodded, not seeing at all, but understanding the confusion in her son's eyes.

"Do you know who she is?" Syaoran asked, facing her.

Yelan shook her head.

"I'm sorry dear," she said, sighing. "There are simply far too many courtiers to know by name!"

Syaoran slumped, dejected.

"But why do you ask?" Yelan asked, lightly.

"Mm?" Syaoran shook his head dismissively. "Oh, no reason. I met her today – she's quite the educated lady."

Yelan smiled, before approaching footsteps stopped her from speaking further.

"So," said King Xiao-Lang, calmer than before. "I have news for you, son."

Syaoran didn't bother meeting eyes with his father.

"What is it? Another proposal?"

"A masked ball," Xiao-Lang corrected. "I'm holding a masked ball in honour of His Honour, Clow Reed. I'm inviting everyone that's everyone to this ball."

"Fascinating," Syaoran muttered. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Compromise," his father said simply. At which point Syaoran met his eyes, astonished.

"Compromise?" he repeated. " _You_?"

"Yes," Xiao-Lang stated, eyes glittering. "You see, if you're so unhappy with the proposals I bring in for you, then I suggest you do a bit of searching yourself. If what you want is a woman with character, then you'd best find her soon. For at this ball, you will announce your engagement to the whole kingdom…Or else, I will announce it for you."

Syaoran was taken aback. This was…so unlike his father!

"What about China?" he asked. "Didn't Duke Lian threaten you or something?"

"How kind of you to pay attention," Xiao-Lang said pointedly. "But since you've expressed concern, let me enlighten you. Jin Lian is a two-faced man who speaks big words. He came here with such big ideals, didn't he, Yelan? Pointed fingers at  _our_  upbringing! But now…"

"What?" Syaoran asked, curious.

"I have something on Duke Lian that might make him want to reconsider his words," Xiao-Lang said gleefully, clapping his hands together. "Something that, if it gets out, might wreck his daughter's prospects on this side of the border."

Syaoran glanced at his mother uncertainly. He didn't know which side of his father disturbed him more. The cold dictator-like figure, or the one he was witnessing right now.

Yelan placed her hands on her son's shoulders.

"Choose well, son," she said gently, casting an appraising eye at her husband. "Divorce…is only something they do in Europe."

* * *


	8. pursuing the countess

 

**chapter eight. pursuing the countess**

* * *

The following day, immediately following the delivery of a single adorned invitation, cordially inviting the Daidoujis to the royal family's ball, the entire upper floor of the mansion was in somewhat of a feverish excitement. In the Lady Sonomi's chamber, it appeared as though a storm had broken loose. Brightly coloured gowns were strewn about the bed, floor, chairs…

"Just look at all of them!" Suki whispered in Yukari's ear indignantly. "She doesn't even wear half of those! If she sold those, she'd be able to pay off taxes for two years!"

Meiling was in a daze, mechanically rooting through trunks, drawers, chests, taking out dresses, holding them against herself, and them throwing them aside. At last, nearly an hour later, she proclaimed herself exhausted and fell back on the bed despairingly.

"That's all I have," Sonomi said, not the least regretful. "I always thought I had an extensive collection, but-"

"You have nothing!" Meiling wailed. "Nothing good enough to wear there!"

"Why!" Sonomi spluttered indignantly, holding up a lavishly decorated green gown. "This would look lovely on you - and besides, it's green! The Prince loves green, everyone knows that!"

"Right," Meiling sniffed. "And  _everyone_  will be wearing the exact same colour!"

Sonomi dropped the dress.

"Very good thinking," she said appraisingly. "You're really growing up to be another me, aren't you?"

Meiling was spared a response when Tomoyo sidled into the chamber, resplendent in a deep navy blue that set off her large eyes.

"How do I look?" she inquired brightly.

Meiling scowled. "It's tight," she said scathingly. "You eat entirely too much, you know."

"Kind of you to say so," Tomoyo sniffed, facing her mother. "Mother, how do I look?"

Sonomi rolled her eyes, and faced Meiling.

"Perhaps if I had the  _slightest_  idea what you wanted," she said, ignoring Tomoyo, who stood there, open-mouthed and indignant, "we would be able to understand each other better?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Meiling snapped back waspishly. "Something fit for a  _queen_?  _Better_  than a queen?"

Sonomi frowned.

"We're not made of money, you know," Tomoyo quipped, hands on waist. "We're already almost poor, thanks to those gold-pieces you wear every day –"

"Tomoyo, do shut up," Meiling yawned. "Mother's thinking, and besides, no one  _cares_  what you have to say anyway –"

" _Meiling_!" Sonomi said reproachfully, before her eyes lit up. "Fit for a queen, did you say?"

"Or better," Meiling replied sullenly. "Why?"

Sonomi rose, eyes glittering.

"Follow me," she said, clapping her hands together. "I have just the thing."

* * *

Sonomi led her daughters up another two flights of stairs.

"I never even knew this place  _existed_!" Meiling whispered.

"Silence," Sonomi replied. "We're almost there."

She opened a door, and led them into the dusty room. Meiling coughed. It was a small dry room, lit by a giant window, which let in the bright spring sunlight.

"Highest room in the mansion," Sonomi explained. "The attic."

"Does anyone ever come up here?" Meiling demanded.

"Of course," Tomoyo said simply. "Someone has to come here to open and close the window. Otherwise the room would be up to your elbows in snow!"

Meiling glared at Tomoyo, who discreetly silenced herself.

Sonomi eyed Meiling, amused.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Meiling said earnestly, while Tomoyo replied, "No."

"Here," Sonomi said, ignoring Tomoyo, and reaching for a particularly handsomely chased trunk. She turned the key still in the lock, and opened it.

"It's cloth," Meiling said dryly. "Fascinating."

Sonomi didn't reply. She unfolded the cloth, and set it aside, to reveal something gauzy and white. Daintily, she lifted the white folds, and lifted it out of the trunk to reveal a stunning white kimono, with heavy silver work around the neck, sleeves, and hem.

Meiling gasped.

"It's  _perfect_!" she whispered, fingering the satiny skirts. "I'll bet even the Chinese duchess doesn't have something like this!"

Tomoyo had spotted something glinting in the trunk, and pulled them out.

"And look at these shoes!" she cried, brandishing the ornately decorated slippers, made of a very unusual material. Crystal? Glass? "Where did you get them?" she asked, eyes shining.

Sonomi smirked.

"You'll never believe it," she said, her lip curling. "Fujitaka left them. For Sakura's  _dowry_."

Meiling snorted.

" _Sakura_? Dowry?" she sneered. "Now who would we marry Cinderella off to? The chimney sweep?"

"Maybe you should ask her if she wants to go to the ball," Tomoyo suggested lightly. "She might want to wear it there if it's hers –"

Meiling coughed, silencing Tomoyo.

"And since  _when_  have royal functions included  _commoners_?" she asked pointedly.

"Well…" Tomoyo amended, "Never. But – Sakura's our stepsister, and the invitation  _did_  read,  _To the ladies of the house_  –"

"Tomoyo, use your head," Meiling spat. "To the  _ladies_  – and since when has Sakura been a  _lady_?"

"That's not fair!" Tomoyo protested. "What was she before we came here, then? And if she isn't a lady, then why would Mother have married her father? Because he's a nobleman, and even his old wife was a lady, so that would make Sakura a lady too –"

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Meiling demanded.

"And besides, who'd notice?" Sonomi asked disdainfully. "No one."

Tomoyo frowned, watching Meiling run her fingers along Sakura's kimono.

"Mother, I love it," she said breathlessly. "It's perfect for –"

"What are you doing here?"

Meiling got up and spun around. Standing in the doorway was Sakura, a broom clutched in her hands.

"I could ask you the same question," Meiling retorted. "What are  _you_  doing here?"

Sakura waved her broom.

"Yukari told me the attic needed cleaning," she said sharply. "Care to help me?"

"Of course not!" Meiling wrinkled her nose.

"Well then, what are you doing up here?" Sakura asked. Her eyes fell upon the dress in Sonomi's hands. "And with my mother's -?"

"We're airing out your dress," Sonomi replied smoothly. "For the ball."

Sakura dropped the broom. Beside her, Tomoyo fixed her mother with an accusing glare.

" _Her_  dress?" she demanded pointedly. "But you just said that –"

"I said that for a servant, it would have to do," Meiling interrupted stiffly, her eyes boring into Tomoyo's. "I mean, just look at it – it's practically an…an antique."

"Let me make sure I heard this right," Sakura said, as though to herself. " _You_ …want  _me_ …to go to a ball?"

Even Sonomi looked unsettled by the joy radiating from Sakura's large green eyes as she nodded uncomfortably.

Sakura's face broke out into a smile. "I – I don't know what to say," she breathed. "A ball! And me – to go with  _you_  – as though –"

"I thought we could go as a family," Sonomi said quickly, feigning cheer. "That is, if you finished all your chores, and minded your manners – it would be a good evening for you, to – get away from the manor and just –"

Tomoyo lost her temper. She threw the shoes back into the trunk, and stared at her mother with a gaze that read,  _How could you_? After seeing no response from her, she simply brushed past Sakura and raced down the stairs as fast as she could.

Sakura frowned. Tomoyo was usually the friendliest of her stepfamily. So what – what had gotten her so upset?

"Don't mind her," Meiling said darkly. "She doesn't want you to go."

Sakura nodded slowly.  _Bullshit…_

* * *

"What's on your mind, son?" Clow Reed asked Syaoran, as they strolled by the large lake, half a day's walk from the palace.

"I'm just confused, that's all," Syaoran said, unsure.

"Your father's decision surprised you, didn't it?" Reed asked, smiling.

"It's the decision I can accept," Syaoran mused. "It's what comes after that I don't understand."

"Finding your engagement?" Reed asked.

Syaoran nodded.

"I just don't know what to do! Where to look!" he cried.

Reed raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that there was a shortage of prospects in this kingdom –"

"Not a shortage!" Syaoran cried, running his hands through his dishevelled brown hair. "An excess! Too many! And not one worth looking at twice! It's a nightmare! I have the freedom to choose now – but I still have no options!"

" _No_  options?" Reed laughed gently. "Son, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were being  _quite_  fussy about this."

" _Fussy_?" Syaoran sniffed. "How?"

"You seem to be searching for her with your eyes shut!" Reed said, slapping Syaoran lightly on the shoulder. "A fruitful search this will turn out to be, I'm sure!"

"Eyes shut?"

"That's what it's amounting to," Reed said gravely. "If you examine all these girls, so deliberate to find a fault in them, then you're never going to find one. Everyone has faults, Syaoran. You must learn to accept them as they come. She's not going to change for you."

"I don't  _want_  her to change!" Syaoran defended, his face heating up. "I just – I just want her to be -  _good_  for me! I mean, it's a question of my  _life_! I'm stuck with her all my life!"

Reed tutted.

"Now you see, there's the mindset you need to put aside," he said mildly. "Stop treating this like a task. For God's sake, meet a pretty girl, pay attention, and you might find that she's a lot better for you than you'd ever expected."

Syaoran's face fell. He made his way to the shores of the lake, and flopped down, sitting cross-legged in the sand. Reed sat beside him, keen eyes intelligently reading his face.

"You fancy someone in particular," he said, his lips lifting at the ends.

"Do I?" Syaoran pillowed his chin in his palms.

"It's that lady from yesterday, isn't it?" Reed asked, amused. "The one with the sharp tongue and rather dainty feet."

Syaoran stiffened.

"You mean the Countess Amamiya?" he asked quickly. "She – I don't know –"

"Go on." Reed nodded encouragingly.

"I've only met her once, but –" Syaoran looked at Reed, the wind blowing his chestnut hair out of his face, "I don't think I'd  _mind_  seeing her again."

Reed clapped his hands together.

"There we go!" he said amicably. "A prospect!"

"Now what?" Syaoran asked, falling back onto the sand. "This is just a prospect. We – may not even be right for each other! And how will I know, in  _five days?!_ "

Reed muttered a word or two under his breath, forcing Syaoran to sit up.

"You can't just leave everything like that!" he scolded. "She's got a lot of work to do, you know. If you want her, you'll have to fight for her. Like a man."

"But how?" Syaoran asked. "All I have is a name – that  _no one_  has even heard of! How will I ever find her?"

Reed closed his eyes. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Sakura paused to examine her hands. They were indeed so dirty, from her toil in the land beyond the orchards. She had been weeding the land up until the rocky outcrop that overlooked the lake. By her side, there was a basket of weeds, and in front of her, the lake sparkling in the midday sun.

She sighed. It looked so inviting. And she was already so hot and sweaty from her day's work. Wouldn't it be nice to just – swim?

Her eyes lit up. Swimming…

Not a bad idea.

Grinning, she dove into the lake, fully clad, never minding that the lake was still chilly with winter's breath still upon it. She lay on her back and floated, eyes closed. It felt good, as though the water was washing away her previous aches and pains, her suffering and her tears…

 _Down again, are we?_  She heard her father's voice ask her.  _But my Sakura, you're so brave!_

 _I just don't understand anymore_ , she sighed.  _What do Sonomi and Meiling really want? And Tomoyo? Which one wants me to go to the ball, and which one would rather I didn't?_

 _Be strong,_  her father's voice whispered.  _Be my little son – bold and fearless!_

 _Yes,_  Sakura said silently.  _I will do it – for you, Father. And no other._

 _That's my girl_ , her father said proudly, and a single tear escaped from Sakura's eyes.

 _Don't leave me…_  she whispered silently in her mind.

The response that formed took on another voice, slightly different, but still the same.

_I never did._

"It looks like it's about to rain, child," said a voice from above her.

Sakura sniffed. "Really? I'd better –"

She opened her eyes, and realized she was still floating. On the water. A tall man stood beside her.  _On_  the water. Grinning down at her.

Sakura screamed.

* * *

"I didn't mean to startle you, milady," Reed was apologizing, as he towed a thoroughly drenched Sakura toward the shore. "Honestly, I'd forgotten about how easily you young girls scare, foolish of me, really –"

Syaoran had come sprinting toward them, his face white.

"I heard someone screaming," he said urgently. "Is everyone alright?"

"She's fine," Reed said, helping Sakura stand on her own feet. "Startled, but then again you don't see a man standing on water every day –"

" _Countess Amamiya?_ " Syaoran breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

Sakura froze.  _Oh no…_

"Here, let me…" Syaoran undid the fastenings of his cloak, and draped it around Sakura's shoulders, never minding that he had to wade knee-deep in icy water to do so.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Sakura replied, teeth chattering.

"Allow me," Syaoran said, brushing Reed's hands off of Sakura's shoulders, and helping her out of the shallows, to a drier spot on the lakeshore.

"This is fine, Your Highness," Sakura said, kneeling in a particularly sunny spot on the shore. "It'll dry up in no time."

Syaoran sat down beside her, hardly daring to believe his own luck. Reed walked by them, whistling.

Of course! Syaoran had completely forgotten that the man was a magician!

"Where are your attendants?" he asked, looking around, and seeing the lake quite empty.

 _Er…_  Sakura thought quickly.

"I gave them all the day off," she said uneasily. She hated lying, and around the prince, she seemed to be doing it more often than not.

"A day off?" Syaoran repeated.

"Yes," Sakura said flatly. "Don't you ever tire of being waited on all the time? Don't you ever simply wish to be alone with your thoughts, and to feel – just feel like a normal human being, just once?"

"Yes," Syaoran said simply.

Sakura turned to face him in astonishment.

"But – but – they're servants, aren't they?" he amended, feeling uncomfortable under her piercing green stare. "That's what they're supposed to do. It's their job."

Reed, some six paces away, winced and shook his head.  _Bad. Wrong answer, Syaoran._

Sakura turned away, astonishment giving way to disappointment.

"Well, I wish I could dismiss my people as thoughtlessly as you do your own," she said grimly, her mouth in a tight line.

Syaoran sensed that the conversation was not going the way he wanted it to. It was difficult talking to the Countess Amamiya. She seemed – a class all her own. So different from the rest of the women he had met. Talking with her was challenging. But he enjoyed it. It was refreshing to be able to talk with a woman who seemed genuinely uninterested in both him and his wealth.

"You're angry with me, aren't you?" he asked softly.

Sakura opened her mouth to disagree, but he cut her across.

"You can be honest, you know. I promise I won't be offended," he said sincerely.

 _Honesty?_  Sakura thought, impressed.  _That's a new approach, even for an arrogant man like him._

"Well then…honestly speaking, I am more than slightly angry," Sakura said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Syaoran's amber eyes met hers gravely.

"Why?"

Sakura couldn't stop her words from forming.

"Because you, sir, are trying to trap me with your arrogance!"

Syaoran eyebrows shot up. Six paces away, Reed broke into silent laughter.

"My lady," Syaoran said evenly, trying to keep his face straight, "I must take it upon myself to inform you that you are indeed, a walking contradiction."

"Me?" Sakura asked, her brows lowered in confusion.

"Yes,  _you_ ," Syaoran replied. "You, who have read Thomas More to the point of memorization, I believe, and living according to the ideals of a utopian society – though you live the life of a courtier! I find it fascinating, really."

"Oh!" Sakura nodded, her face heating up. "And  _you_ , sir, own more land than any man hereabouts has the right to  _dream_  about, yet you still take no pride in working it. Is that  _also_  not a contradiction?"

Reed shook his head in amazement.  _Syaoran, don't let this one go_ , he thought, beaming.  _I like her spirit. Very much._

"This is incredible," Syaoran said, grinning. "First, I'm accused of being  _arrogant_ , and now apparently, I have no pride. However do I manage that?"

Sakura couldn't help it. She smiled.

"There we go," Syaoran said. "A smile from the lady. About time too. I thought it was nearly impossible."

"How is it possible?" Sakura replied, meeting his eyes. "To have everything, and still find no joy in this world?"

Syaoran's face darkened.

"Some things are worth more than others," he told her softly. "To have everything – is not really the same as having everything. And at the same time, sometimes, to have nothing more than another to call your own – is enough to make all else worthless…"

He trailed off, facing Sakura, who was staring at him open-mouthed.

"I'd never say that to anyone else," he told her, smiling. "But somehow – I think you understand what I mean."

Sakura nodded, slowly.  _And just when I was convinced he was perfect for Meiling_ , she thought.  _The prince actually has a third dimension!_

As if punctuating her thoughts, she heard a voice call, faintly.

" _Sakura_?"

She turned slowly, to see, in horror, a figure in a grey work dress on the other end of the lake. It was Suki, who thankfully, hadn't seen Sakura or the prince.

It was time, Sakura decided quickly, to leave.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly, standing up. "I seem to have lost track of the hour. I really must be going."

"So soon?" Sakura was astonished and somewhat dismayed to see disappointment in the prince's eyes.

"I am sorry," she replied. "But I really must go."

"Shame," the prince said dejectedly. "And to think we were about to enter a conversation some might have called civil."

"There will be other times, my lord," Sakura said automatically, before stopping herself.  _Another time?_  her mind screamed at her.  _You foolish girl! You never want to see him again! You're a servant, remember?_

"Of course," Syaoran said, brightening up. "Let me at least see the lady off to her door –"

"That won't be necessary," Sakura said shortly, unwrapping Syaoran's cloak from about her and returning it to him. "I would prefer to be alone," she managed as politely as she could.

She turned away, but a hand closed about her wrist.

"Will you come visit me tomorrow?" he asked her softly, eyes shining with something like hope.

"I –" Sakura stammered, at a loss of what to say. This was dangerous, and it was growing out of hand. "Actually I am due for a trip out of town," she lied. "I may be gone for quite some time."

"Where are you going?" Syaoran asked.

"China," Sakura replied, thinking fast.

Syaoran nodded, releasing her wrist.

"Don't take too long," he called after her as she ran through the woods. "If you do…I may come looking for you."

Reed sidled up to Syaoran's side.

"Was that a prospect, sir?" Syaoran asked Reed, nervous.

Reed winked.

"Better than anything you'll find this century," he assured him. "Now let's head back to the palace, and let things just run its course…"

* * *

"Where are the candlesticks?" Sonomi demanded that evening at suppertime. "I can hardly see my plate!"

"They're gone," Yukari replied. "Searched high and low for them, and couldn't see a trace of them."

"With that painting in the upper corridor too," Suki continued. "Old Lord Kinomoto's favourite, and now it's gone missing!"

"It is a painting," Sonomi sniffed. "It could not simply decide to  _go missing_. No, more likely, it has been stolen!"

"Stolen?" Suki repeated.

"Yes,  _stolen_ , halfwit," Sonomi said through gritted teeth. "Someone amongst us is a thief. Be it known to you all that I am watching you carefully, and if I so much as catch you  _looking_  at anything of value in the wrong manner, I will have you shipped off to Armorica –"

"Oh, Mother, didn't you hear?" Tomoyo said conversationally. "At court today, I heard the Prince Syaoran just released his first public edict. His first command was to release all the men shipped overseas!"

"He did?" Sakura gasped before she could stop himself.

Three pairs of eyes met hers slowly.

"Er…well, I suppose Benkei had best come home soon, then," Sakura amended feebly, for neither Sonomi nor Meiling or Tomoyo had seen Benkei about the house since the day before. "Isn't that excellent?"

Sonomi rolled her eyes and resumed eating her dinner.

"Go on," she said to Tomoyo.

"Well…" Tomoyo frowned, trying to remember. "Oh yes. Now, by royal decree, if any man is to be shipped off, he is to be compensated."

"Compensated!" Sonomi scoffed. "Oh, what is this world coming to?"

"More importantly," Meiling said sharply, "I want to know who this mysterious countess is."

"Who?" Sonomi asked.

"I don't know," Meiling scowled. "I heard ten courtiers talking about her. How, apparently, the prince tripped all over himself to help her, and then followed her all the way to the gates of the court. Said she was stately. Tall. Queenly."

Sakura caught Suki's eye. Both hid a smile, as Sonomi beckoned for water, and Sakura reached for her stepmother's goblet, filling it with water, and stepped away, hard pressed to keep the grin from spreading across her face.

"Well, whoever this countess woman is…" Sonomi said disdainfully, reaching for her goblet and sipping the water daintily, "We should find out who she is."

"And  _bury_  her," Meiling said murderously.

* * *


	9. of courtships and concoctions

 

**chapter nine. of courtships and concoctions**

* * *

Two days had passed since Sakura had fled the prince Syaoran on the shores of the lake bordering her father's estate. Two days of relative normalcy, she reasoned, arranging the first of the orchard's harvest neatly on the cart in the bustling marketplace. Neither had the prince shown his face on the estate, nor had she any reason to step off Sonomi's land, and gradually, her masquerade as the Countess Amamiya slipped from her mind, as Sonomi put her to hard labour in the fields.

"That's about the rest of them," Suki panted, as she set a sack of green-tinged apples onto the cart. "Help me unload these, and we'll be set to open."

Sakura complied, swiftly arranging the contents of the sack in rows.

"Careful, now!" Yukari warned, resting her hand on Sakura's shoulder. "You'll drop some of them, and that's just what we need –"

Before she could finish her sentence, an apple slipped from the cart. Sakura lunged for it, but it fell out of her reach. It hit the ground and rolled halfway across the road before it stopped, gently halted by a man's particularly shiny boot.

Sakura's eyes widened as the man turned around.

"Oh  _no_!" she muttered, turning around and bending over to rearrange the pears.

But the man had already seen, and was approaching the cart.

"Sakura,  _hide_!" Yukari hissed through the side of her mouth. But it was too late.

"Kinomoto Sakura," Hitoshi Tanaka said genially, though his ugly face was contorted into an awful leer. He held out the apple, and Sakura, straightening, her face slightly red, snatched the apple out of his hand.

"What do you want?" she asked flatly, though she struggled to keep her temper in check. The last thing she needed was another whipping from Sonomi on his account.

Tanaka raised an eyebrow.

"I simply wanted to let you know how beautiful you look today," he replied slowly, his eyes raking up and down the length of Sakura's body. She shuddered.

"Although, I must admit, that dress does absolutely nothing for you," he frowned, and Sakura was grateful that her work dress was old, ragged, and fit her like a sack. "Lady Sonomi is wasting the services her stepdaughter could offer her."

Sakura forced a smile, which came out as a grimace.

"I beg to differ, sire. The Lady Sonomi takes advantage of what I can offer her," she said evenly, though her hands were shaking. " _You_ , I fear, are wasting your flattery."

"Am I?" Tanaka's voice was strangely soft – like a cat toying with a mouse in its clutches. "It appears as though the Lady Sonomi cannot recognize the worth of what she holds in her hands. If she ever learned to – manipulate her tools accordingly, it might allow her to reap some reward  _far_  greater than this –" he looked at the creaky old cart disdainfully, "–old thing."

"What are you talking about?" Yukari interjected, crossing her arms. Suki had a frown on her face.

"The soil, the soil!" Tanaka recovered smoothly. "It puzzles me how your soil is the richest in the province, yet it remains so…poorly tended." His yellowish eyes were fixed hungrily on Sakura, who was engrossed in arranging the perfectly stacked pears.

"We have limited resources, sire," Suki spoke up sharply, recognizing the hidden meaning within Tanaka's words distastefully. "We do the best we can."

"Indeed," Tanaka replied, smiling to reveal three gold teeth. "Ever wondered what the influence of a wealthy man like myself could do to change your fortunes, Sakura-chan?"

Sakura stiffened at his informal address of her. Yukari laid a hand on Sakura's shoulder defensively.

"Perhaps you should discuss that with the Lady Daidouji," Yukari replied, indignant. "Kinomoto Sakura is in the Lady's care, and falls under her authority. In the meantime, you should stick to shopping, if that it why you're here."

"If you don't mind, old woman, I would prefer to discuss my proposition with Sakura in person," Tanaka returned coolly.

Yukari glared at him frostily. Sakura didn't even look at him, merely continued organizing the pears.

"Young lady," Tanaka continued, "consider my words carefully, for you are an intelligent young creature, and a proposition of this value comes only once. Though I may be twice your age, I am indeed wealthy – endowed with riches beyond your Lady Sonomi's pitiful inheritance. Consider your options. You can remain here, working for your cruel stepmother, until your back breaks and you grow old – or, even better, you can accept my offer. After all,  _you_  need a wealthy benefactor, and even  _I_  could use a young woman with –" he paused, his eyes glittering, "–  _spirit._ "

Sakura wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"What do you say to my offer?" Tanaka asked, folding his arms.

Sakura glanced up at him, her eyes defiant.

"Pears?" she asked cheerfully.

Tanaka's face went sallow.

"No," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I'll buy  _nothing_  this week. And, little girl, perhaps you'd do well to remember that, if it weren't for  _my_  generosity, your pathetic little pig farm would never exist. Convey that to your Lady Sonomi as well, with my greetings."

Tanaka's voice went deadly quiet.

"I would be very,  _very_  careful, if I were you," he said threateningly. He sauntered away, with an arrogant toss of his head.

Suki let out an exasperated shriek at the back of his head.

"What a horrible old man!" she exploded after he had gone. "If he didn't buy a bushel of vegetables from us every week, I'd… _spit_  on his face, I would!"

* * *

Syaoran felt like screaming. Here he was, on a fine spring morning. All he wanted to do was jump on his horse and ride away to China, to find the Countess Amamiya. And instead…he found himself almost literally tied to the arm of Daidouji Meiling. He would never have agreed to accompany her to the marketplace… If it had not been for the fact that the Lady Sonomi and his mother were old acquaintances, and his mother, eager for him to make some new "lady friends" before the ball, had all but ordered him to escort the "lovely Lady Meiling" on a walk through the bazaar...

He looked around him nervously. Meiling was clutching onto his arm, with something he assumed was affection. He felt nothing but repugnance. Now why was there no other woman out there who showed the same restraint as the Countess Amamiya? With the same grace and independence and simplicity…? With the same  _intelligence_ , if all else was too much to ask for?

Yelan's voice broke his thoughts.

"Syaoran?"

He turned to face his mother abruptly. "Mm?"

Yelan shook her head disbelievingly.

"Here," she said, passing him a very ornately decorated box. Syaoran accepted it – and his face fell.

"Uh…" he paused, not quite sure what to do.

"I trust the Lady Meiling has never sampled a delicacy such as this before?" Yelan inquired, raising an eyebrow meaningfully at Syaoran.

"Oh – er – right," Syaoran muttered, holding the box toward Meiling's hands. "Try some, it's delicious."

What he did not expect was for Meiling to close her eyes and open her mouth – like a child waiting to be fed.

 _Er…_ Syaoran thought, shuddering, as he gingerly picked up a piece and tried to transfer it into her mouth without touching her. He removed his hand quickly, trying to avoid wiping his hands on his cloak.

Meiling chewed slowly, softly, her eyes still closed.

 _Oh, please…_  he thought to himself, rolling his eyes.  _As if_ that's _attractive…_

"Uh…" he said, knowing that Yelan was probably watching him with narrowed eyes. "Do you – like it?"

Meiling's eyes fluttered open. Syaoran thought she batted her eyelashes as she did so, and groaned inwardly.

"Like it?" she said breathlessly. "It's positively  _sinful_! What is it called, Your Highness?"

"Er – chocolate," Syaoran replied. Meiling's eyes were fixed on his with a hunger that quite – unsettled him. He turned back to face Tomoyo, standing on Sonomi's other side sullenly, well away from the Prince.

"Would you like to try some too, Tom – Lady Tomoyo?" he asked.  _God, anything is better than that apology of a lady, Meiling!_

Tomoyo brightened, and opened her mouth, but Sonomi cut her across.

"Why, no, Your Highness!" she said cheerfully. "Tomoyo is unfortunately allergic to it."

Syaoran's eyebrows lowered in confusion as Tomoyo scowled at her mother.

"How do you know that she's allergic if she's never tried -?"

"Oh, look, Your Highness!" Meiling interrupted loudly, quite boldly grabbing the prince by the arm and holding it close to her. "Those are our servants!"

She pointed to an old cart, where two – no – three women toiled, clad in work clothes.

"Really?" Syaoran asked, trying to sound interested, but then remembering, unexpectedly, the Countess Amamiya's words.

 _It is what defines your country's character, and that requires_ respect _…_

"I'd love to meet them," he said, more enthusiastically. Yelan's eyebrows shot up, though she smiled as Syaoran seemed to be showing some interest. Finally.

Meiling drew him closer to the cart. He saw two older women, arranging the apples, and among the chickens in the back – was that a third woman he saw -?

"His Highness, the Prince Syaoran!" Meiling announced.

Suddenly, there was a shriek, and a sudden scurrying movement. Syaoran gasped as the chickens scurried about, and the two older women ran about, trying to catch them. Apples went rolling everywhere.

" _What are you doing_?" Sonomi demanded, as Suki and Yukari panted, the chickens safely in their arms. "Trying to  _scare_  the Prince to death?"

"He just startled us, that's all," Suki gasped, red-faced.

Syaoran shook his head and looked in the cart. It was filled completely with chickens.

"Were there just – the two of you?" he asked, frowning.  _I could have sworn I saw three…_

Yukari gulped visibly.

"And the chicken, Sire," she replied, blinking.

Syaoran nodded slowly.

_Why is everyone on the Daidouji estate crazy?_

* * *

"We must not dawdle. The High Prince is a charming young man. Surely he deserves no less than my Meiling. We just have to make him…understand that."

Sakura groaned inwardly, as she arranged the logs in Sonomi's fireplace. She had devised a way of using the least amount of wood possible to heat her stepmother's room; still, it was more than the Lady Sonomi deserved.

"Once Meiling is Queen, we needn't stay here any longer!" Sonomi announced dramatically. Sakura stiffened, drawing her lips into a thin line. "The estate is simply… _crumbling_  to pieces! Although no one but time can be blamed for that, my dear. These lands have simply seen more than their share of days."

 _Of course, stepmother_ , Sakura thought grimly.  _If it disturbs you so much, you can leave. Leave us be, in peace. And good riddance!_

"We shall live in the palace!" Sonomi continued, dreamily. "The highest in society, with Meiling,  _my_  daughter, the most envied lady in the entire kingdom! With jewels the size of goose eggs, gowns richer than those of Queen Yelan, and a crown upon her hair…can you not imagine her, adorned in royal finery?"

Sakura lit the grate and stepped away. She turned to face Sonomi, looking down at her feet, knowing what Sonomi's eyes critically saw. A tall girl, almost too thin, with soot smudged on her face and hands. Her auburn hair, tangled and tied roughly back. Her clothes, so ill-fitting and stained from the hard work she did. Her feet shod in shoes too large, her hands rough and callused. Who would ever believe that this girl had once been the daughter of a general and a lady? That this girl had played the part of a countess, and accidentally caught the eye of the elusive High Prince?

"No…" Sonomi wrinkled her nose daintily. "I don't suppose you can. Being what you are. Maybe that is where your only beauty lies, Sakura. In your simplicity. Your naivety."

Sakura bobbed her head shortly. In a moment of rare compassion, Sonomi beckoned to Sakura, to come sit by her feet. Sakura obliged, squatting hesitantly before her stepmother's porcelain, statuesque feet.

"My mother was hard on me too, you know," Sonomi said, frowning. "She would often laugh at my manner of dressing, my ways of talking. Often, during dinner, when we had guests over, she would scold me at the table, for any flaw in my table manners. Oh yes –" she said, as Sakura's eyes widened, "-and she would lose no opportunity to humble myself before others. She would force me to wash my face at least ten times a day, because she was convinced it was never clean enough. Corsets and dances and many a sound lashing – but I was very grateful to my mother."

She paused, gazing into the fire reminiscently, the leaping amber light accenting her aging features: the lines around her mouth, the wrinkling of her brows, the shadows beneath her eyes…

"She wanted me to be all that I could be," Sonomi continued, in barely more than a whisper. "And now, here I am. The mother to the next Queen."

Her eyes flitted toward Sakura's face, slack in astonishment.

"It must be terrible for you," she said heavily, "to have never known your mother."

Sakura blinked. It was easier for her when Sonomi was cold, cruel, inattentive… It was easier to hate her. But what to say to a Sonomi who was, well, almost kind?

"I just wish I could remember what she looked like," she stammered.

"Mm, well," Sonomi mumbled, her eyes fixed on Sakura's face. "Not that there'd be any point searching for a resemblance. You're the image of your father."

 _That_  was more like the Sonomi Sakura was used to.

"And, well – your features are so masculine –" Sonomi continued, and Sakura blanched indignantly. "And to be raised by a  _man_ , no less! It's no wonder you're built for such hard work."

Sakura's face whitened. Was it so difficult for the Lady Sonomi to be kind? What pain did it inflict her to give her stepdaughter just  _one_  smile? Shower her with  _one_  compliment? What was the cost of treating Sakura like a third daughter, that Sonomi was so loath to even  _acknowledge_  her presence?

"Did you love my father?" she asked, suddenly.  _Or was it his land and wealth you fell in love with?_

Sonomi blinked, regaining her composure.

"Well, I…" she said slowly, "…I barely knew him!"

Sakura nodded, pursing her lips.  _So it_ was _his money that you fell in love with. Not him. Never him._

Sonomi brushed her hand dismissively.

"Off with you now," she said brusquely. "I'm tired."

Sakura bowed, scrambling to her feet. There was a lump in her throat.

"Yes, Milady."

She backed out of the door, racing into her quarters. She didn't bother undressing herself. She simply grabbed her copy of  _Utopia_ , slumped by the ashes of her fireplace and opened the book. Allowing herself to read the comforting words while the tears ran down her cheeks, slowly, one by one.

* * *

Yamazaki frowned at Sakura, who lay on her back on the grassy field, her wet hair drying in the sun.

"So, let me get this straight?" he repeated, incredulously. "The High Prince…fancies  _Meiling_  now?"

"Apparently," Sakura replied, eyes closed. "Sonomi was quite convinced that she'd be the queen's mother."

"What could any self-respecting man  _ever_  see in that spoiled, selfish cow?" Yamazaki demanded, bristling. Sakura burst out laughing, and sat up, running her fingers through her long hair.

"I don't know!" she said, grinning. "But I simply can't wait until he marries her!"

"Why?" Yamazaki asked, frowning as he sat beside her. "Would you be looking forward to the wedding? Perhaps you'll do the honours of sweeping the floor behind the groom. Or better yet, why don't you wear the dress –" he waved the red dress that Sakura had returned to him that day, "– during the ceremony? Your stepfamily'd be pleased, wouldn't they,  _Countess Amamiya_?"

Sakura turned red.

"They'd know better than that," she said lightly. "Sonomi wouldn't ever let me within a ten-foot radius of the prince. Anyway, the good part doesn't come until  _after_  the wedding."

"Enlighten me," Yamazaki said flatly.

"It hardly can get any better," Sakura grinned. "Lady Sonomi and Meiling move into the palace and never come here again! And I get to stay home and turn Father's estate back to the way it was before she  _ever_  came here!"

"And what if your extended family came to visit?" Yamazaki asked dryly. "How would your brother-in-law react to seeing his beloved Countess Nadeshiko Amamiya slaving away on a manor farm?"

"I honestly couldn't care less," Sakura scoffed, shoving Yamazaki in the side and knocking him over.

"Admit it," Yamazaki taunted, a grin plastered on his boyish face. "You like him. Don't you?"

"Nope," Sakura shook her head.

Yamazaki squinted. There was a dustcloud on the manor road. Two people were approaching. On horses.

"And uh…" he stammered, thinking quickly. "Say, if he turned up right now –"

Sakura stared at Yamazaki, wide-eyed.

"I'd simply walk up to him, arms open, and say…" Sakura thought for a moment, " 'Your Highness, my family is your family. Please, take them away!' "

She laughed gently.

Yamazaki giggled nervously.

"Good," he said pointedly. "Because here's your big chance. That's him on the road, coming right this way!"

Sakura's eyes widened. " _No!_ " she whispered, scrambling up onto her feet. "If he asks,  _I was never here!_ " she hissed into Yamazaki's ear, before racing to the giant oak tree by the road, and scrambling up it, hidden in its branches by the early foliage. Her view was obscured, but she could still hear every word below.

Galloping. A horse's whinny. And then a pause.

"Your Highness!" Yamazaki could be heard saying, surprise evident in his voice. "You came at an odd time. What are you doing here?"

 _Well done for diplomacy_ , Sakura thought grimly, as she heard the soft clatter of leather-soled boots hitting the hard ground. The prince had dismounted his horse.

"You don't happen to know the whereabouts of the Countess Amamiya, do you?" came the voice of Prince Syaoran, distant and authoritative, yet with the desperation of a man who seeks a treasure he fears he can never find.

"Er…" Yamazaki faltered, but Syaoran continued.

"I found her swimming in the lake here, not two days past," he said. "And she was supposedly supposed to go to China. Do you know of that?"

"I don't…" Yamazaki sounded very confused. And very frightened.

Up in the tree, Sakura recoiled, clinging to the highest branch she could reach. Her heart was beating somewhere in the region of her throat.  _Why won't he leave me alone?_  she wondered desperately.  _Why does he have to be so stubborn?_

"Here now," the prince said, surprised. "That dress you're carrying – it belongs to the Countess, does it not?"

Sakura's heart skipped a couple of beats as she remembered, sickeningly, that she had just returned the dress to Yamazaki that morning. And it was still in Yamazaki's arms – in plain view of the Prince.

 _Oh no…_ she thought, chewing her lip frantically.

"This?" Yamazaki asked, trying to sound surprised. Then, evidently deciding that ignorance was not the best approach to solve the problem, he conceded to defeat. "Yes it does, Your Highness."

Sakura groaned inwardly. Curse that boy! She'd whip him twice over before the day was through!

"You know her?" Prince Syaoran sounded genuinely relieved. "Oh thank God – finally, at least a hint of where she is! Please, tell me where she is. I must find her!"

"Erm…" Yamazaki was doing some very fast thinking. "I believe, sire, that she was…staying with a cousin."

"I was aware of that much," the Prince replied coldly. "Who is this cousin of hers?"

 _Say anything,_  Sakura urged.  _Any name. Just not –_

"The Lady Daidouji Sonomi!" Yamazaki cried.

 _\- that one_ , Sakura finished, moaning inwardly.  _You stupid, stupid boy!_

"Oh no…" Syaoran groaned. "That  _does_  present a problem. If I set foot near that place, I'll be tied up and held hostage by the Lady Daidouji! Or her crazy daughter!"

 _Excellent_ , Sakura thought jubilantly, her fears dissipating instantly.  _Thank God he's scared stiff of Meiling – he won't set foot anywhere_ near _the estate now_!

"I don't think that would be a problem, Your Highness," Yamazaki said in diffident tones, although Sakura's heart sank as she detected the mischievousness behind his words. "You see, they've all gone to prayer this morning, and they won't be back until late afternoon."

There was silence as the prince absorbed Yamazaki's words with growing hope, Sakura with sheer despair.

"Meaning that the Countess is at the manor. Alone. At this very moment," Yamazaki finished, a grin spreading across his face.

Sakura could have burst into tears at that very moment.

Apparently, so could the prince. However, he nodded briskly.

"That's good to know," he said evenly. "Thank you for your help, young man. I will be seeing more of you. I assure it."

The prince mounted his horse again swiftly, and, with a click of his tongue, galloped off into the distance. Sakura jumped down from the tree, racing for Yamazaki, eyes ablaze in anguish.

" _Yamazaki_!" she cried. "I'm going to  _kill_  you! How could you do that to me?"

He laughed sheepishly. "Thought it might be a little fun…"

"Fun?!" Sakura almost screaming. "The Prince expects to see the Countess Nadeshiko – who doesn't exist! He also plans to court her – even though she's really a servant in disguise. And in case you've forgotten –  _he's heading toward my house_!"

Yamazaki grinned at Sakura's hysteria.

"Then I suggest you run," he advised solemnly.

* * *

Sakura raced through the woods, her feet treading the shortcut between the two estates that she had taken so many times in her childhood. How useful it was now, that she had memorized it, so that she didn't need to pay attention to where she was going, but only needed to run in the direction her feet led her in.

"Suki! Yukari!" she cried at the top of her lungs as she leapt the fence bordering the back of the manor. "A dress!  _Quick_!"

Suki and Yukari, already in Tomoyo's room, pressing the finest of her gowns, hurriedly picked one of the dresses they had already pressed, an elegant shimmering peach one, with a tight fitted bodice and a wide sweeping skirt. They scurried down the stairwell, shouting instructions to the other servants about.

"A pair of matching shoes!" Yukari shouted.

"And jewels to go along with it!" Suki added. "No matter what size, just hurry!"

Sakura tore off her work dress as she slipped into the doorway, as Yukari hurried to slip the gown onto her. She fumbled with the drawstrings of the bodice while Suki arrived with a brush, combing out Sakura's hair.

"Thank God you washed it this morning!" she muttered, running the brush through her long red locks. "No time to tie it – but you're not supposed to be expecting anyone –"

Servants bustled about, fastening jewels to Sakura's gown, neckline. One placed a heavy necklace onto her neck, while another pinned an elegantly wrought coronet into her hair.

"Just breathe," Yukari panted, dabbing behind Sakura's ears and throat with a vial of sweet-smelling perfume. "And your shoes!"

Sakura slipped into the fine satin slippers, with gold embroidery, and raced for the entrance. Benkei, good reliable Benkei, was already swinging the gates open. That would mean the guests had already arrived.

"Your Highness," she said as calmly as she could, opening the door and scurrying outside, trying to calm herself and still her rapidly beating heart. "You caught me by surprise, I'm afraid." She tried to smile reassuringly, though her insides were still screaming from the tension her nerves had been through.

In the back of the house, the servants groaned, cleaning up after the chaos that had been dressing Sakura from a servant into a fine Countess in less than a minute.

Prince Syaoran stared. The Countess Amamiya seemed…uneasy. Though that was hardly surprising.

"Your plans to visit China…?" was all he could manage to ask.

Sakura smacked herself mentally.

"Oh! Those were…" she paused, trying to think, "delayed for next week. My horseman fell ill."

"I see…" The prince nodded.

Sakura met his eyes, confused.

"Was there a particular reason His Highness graced our doors with his presence today?" she inquired innocently.

"Er, yes," the Prince replied, regaining his composure. "Yes. Actually, my men and I –" he turned his head to the gate, where a man on a horse trotted into the manor, followed by a chariot drawn by four black stallions, "we were heading to the old castle, about an hour's ride north. They have quite a large library. And since you are so fond of reading –" Prince Syaoran's mouth curved upward in a nervous smile, "I was hoping you would do me the honour of accompanying me?"

Sakura was crying inwardly. How could she have let this act go so far? Why had the Prince fallen for the Countess so hopelessly? And  _how_  could she reject his offer?

"It is not fair, Your Highness," she amended, curtseying awkwardly. "That you have discovered my weakness, but I have yet to discover yours."

 _Perfect_ , she cringed inwardly.  _That was just as useful as agreeing outright._

Syaoran's eyes met hers quite seriously, and unexpectedly, she felt herself beginning to melt.

 _Sakura…what's going on here?_  she asked herself nervously.

"Well, my lady," he replied softly. "If you do not wish to be read so easily, then perhaps you should make your weaknesses so obvious?"

Sakura couldn't think of a reply.

The man on the horse stopped behind Syaoran. Sakura recognized him as the blue-haired fellow, the one who seemed to fancy Tomoyo.

"Eriol," Syaoran said, turning to him. "Prepare the chariot, but I will not be needing my horse or my men today. I want no attendants today, do you understand?"

The blue-haired man nodded.

Syaoran turned to face Sakura, his face radiating something she had never seen before. He extended his hand, and she accepted it. He pressed his lips to her fingers.

"I have but one request to make of you," he said. "An order, actually."

"And what is that?" Sakura asked, confused.

His eyes sparkled.

"No formalities," he said, smiling. "Today, I am simply…Syaoran."

* * *


	10. a day with the prince

 

**chapter ten. a day with the prince**

* * *

At the castle of King Xiao-Lang and Queen Yelan, an elegant luncheon had just been called to closure. Servants attended the very long table, whisking away soiled napkins and painstakingly neat plates. Fifty guests were invited to the luncheon, at the request of the Queen Yelan in hopes of introducing her son to some beautiful courtiers before the approaching ball. Among the courtiers invited were the Lady Sonomi and her two daughters.

Excited at the opportunity to be in Syaoran's company once more, and ever tickled by the idea of becoming Queen, Meiling had primped for nearly three hours, emerging in a ravishing gown of smoothest red satin. She looked simply stunning. Sonomi had nearly cried.

Strangely enough, the Prince had stayed on only for the socializing before the meal. When the fifty guests were seated at the long table, all noticed that Syaoran's seat was empty. A servant made his excuses. A weak stomach. Couldn't keep anything in, the prince couldn't. So Yelan, frowning, had continued with the luncheon, noting that a sudden frigidity had fallen upon the table.

She sighed.

It would be a long meal.

* * *

About an hour's ride away, Syaoran, in perfectly good health, escorted Sakura out of his carriage, and led her through the grounds of the old castle.

"It used to belong to my great-great-grandfather," he explained enthusiastically. "But then when the kingdom divided into three states, this place was no longer safe."

Sakura looked about her. While the old castle lacked the rich grandeur of the new one, there was an antiquity about it that she found alluring. Something that spoke of overgrown moss, age-old oak trees, and leather-bound books.

"Somehow, I always preferred this castle to the one I live in," Syaoran commented, looking about him fondly.

"It feels more like home," Sakura replied, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face.

Syaoran noticed her smile, and positively glowed.

Sakura, despite herself, was enjoying the prince's company very much. Stripped of his title and attendants, she had to admit that he was a charming young man. With the absence of the crown from his head, and not dressed in his usual finery, he seemed like a much younger man. Barely a man. A boy, really. The prince was a boy would had been forced into a man's shoes, before he could truly taste life for himself.

She found herself pitying him. How difficult must it be for him to parry with women like Meiling. And how many other women forced themselves on him like Meiling? Sakura wasn't completely ignorant of current affairs: she heard a great deal of the gossip around the manor. She knew the pressure the prince was under – how he had turned down half the girls in the country, and was now forced to make a proposal by midnight two days later.

She couldn't imagine living under that kind of pressure. To her, freedom had been everything. Freedom, and her home. And if she wasn't free at home…at least she could live life the way she wanted to. Free from the obligations and etiquettes of society. She ran barefoot, swam alone, climbed trees…

Somehow she had never wanted more from life apart from that.

"Of course, my father would never understand that," Syaoran continued, his voice growing dark. Sakura glanced at him. "To him, this castle is nothing more than a crumbling old building defacing this side of the country."

"But it's worth so much more than that!" Sakura interjected. "These walls, these grounds…they have a history of their own, as old as this country itself. The footsteps of your ancestors are strewn about this place. It is a place of great wisdom. You cannot deny it any more than you could your own mother."

"You don't understand," Syaoran said, and for the first time, Sakura's heart went out to the man standing next to her. "To them, wisdom means nothing. Beauty – is everything."

"I understand," Sakura said breathlessly, for the first time knowing what she was talking about. "I understand  _completely_."

The bitterness in Syaoran's face disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"I want to show you something," he said. He took Sakura's hand in his, and led her up a pair of crumbly, worn steps.

Sakura couldn't help but feel shivers running down her back. With just that one touch – she didn't like to think about all the other sensations awakening within her. And guilt, sheer guilt – gnawing a hole in the pit of her stomach. This was wrong. The prince deserved the truth. And the sooner, the better.

She stopped in her tracks.

"Your Highness –" she began.

" _Syaoran_ ," the prince corrected.

"S – Syaoran," Sakura stuttered, the name sounding completely foreign to her lips. Had she been the first woman in the land to address the prince by his first name, apart from his mother. She didn't like to think about it.

"I – I haven't been completely honest with you," she forced herself to say, hating herself for letting the situation come this far.

To her surprise, Syaoran smiled again. When he smiled – she usually felt herself melt, but there was something in his eyes. Something soft yet dangerous. Blood was rushing to her face. Something within her screamed,  _danger!_  She was falling into something she couldn't get out of.

"Nor have I," Syaoran whispered. "I must confess that all my life, I have only dreamed to find a courtier such as yourself, Nadeshiko."

Sakura gaped inwardly. Not at the forwardness of Syaoran's words, but at the fact that, at that moment, she wished that the name he said had been hers.

"A – And what kind of courtier would that have been?" she struggled to maintain her composure.

"One who is strong and independent," Syaoran said gently. "I always wanted someone who was outspoken. Courageous. Honest. You, my lady, seem to know a great deal more about honesty than the rest of all the other women in the kingdom put together."

 _Don't say that_ , Sakura urged herself to say.  _Don't pass such a weighty judgment on me. I can't live up to this, I can't…_

But she had to, for she could not bring herself to tell him the horrible, cutting truth. That she was nothing more than a servant, and her entire identity was just a lie. What he believed her to be was nothing more than an illusion.

 _If I told him the truth_ , Sakura wondered,  _would he ever forgive me? Or ever be able to trust again?_

And she ignored the other thing bothering her. That she didn't want to tell the truth to the prince, because, despite herself, she was beginning to enjoy his company much more than she ought to.

_Sakura…what have you got yourself into?_

Syaoran cleared his throat, somewhat embarrassed.

"We should be moving again," he said, somewhat unevenly. He continued up the stairs, and Sakura followed him silently, her mind in turmoil.

They reached the top of the steps, and Syaoran opened the ancient wooden door. There was a creaking sound as the door opened, and Syaoran led Sakura inside.

The smell of dust and aged wood met her nostrils, as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the castle's interior. She looked around herself. There were walls of rough grey stone, and the floor was of an ancient wood that creaked when she walked. The hallways were somewhat bare, though here and there, an elegant statue or intricate stained-glass window could be found.

She loved it immediately. It reminded her of her own home.

"Where are we going?" she asked as Syaoran led her wordlessly down the hallway, and turned into another room, lit brightly by a large window.

Syaoran flashed her a quick grin, as he led her into the room.

She gasped as her eyes took in the sheer size of the room, the largest room she had ever seen. More specifically, the walls. The walls were lined with dusty mahogany shelves, and each of these housed giant, leather-bound volumes.

Sakura took two steps into the room, her mouth open. Dazed. She couldn't imagine how many books were in this room. Hundreds. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. She couldn't count any more. And these weren't the small fine paperbacks that the ladies of court slipped into their purses for a quick, easy read. These were thick, ancient volumes of literature and philosophy. Her eyes lingered in a section dedicated to Thomas More, and tears came to her eyes.

 _If only Father could be here_ …

Syaoran came to her side.

"Do you…like the library?" he asked uncertainly, not sure whether the tears in her eyes represented great joy, or great sadness.

Sakura turned to face him, eyes bright.

"I…I  _love_  it," she told him, struggling to find her words. "Thank you…so much."

Syaoran felt elated. He had known that Nadeshiko seemed to be a fan of books. But to be driven to tears at the sight of a library? He could not explain the feeling inside himself when he realized that he had made her  _very_  happy.

But he could never fathom exactly  _how_  happy he had made her.

And Sakura would never tell.

* * *

Back at Yelan's luncheon, the courtiers were in high bad humour. As the guests stood up and left the table, one by one, she could hear disconnected words of dissent.

"… _can't even keep the Prince under control_ …"

" _His Highness has had too much freedom…_ "

" _I think he deserves the Duchess of China…_ "

"Your Majesty?"

Yelan snapped out of her reverie. She turned to face a beautiful young courtier, with ruby red eyes and long black hair.

"Why, Meiling," Yelan said, trying to smile at the young lady in front of her. "What a pleasant surprise. I could barely see you this morning. Did you enjoy the luncheon?"

"The food was absolutely divine, Your Majesty," Meiling affirmed in a syrupy voice. "If only our servants at home could cook  _half_  as well as the ones here!"

"Yes, well…" Yelan couldn't think of what else to say. It was obvious the young Meiling fancied Syaoran, and was upset that he had left halfway through the luncheon. Or better yet,  _before_  the luncheon had even started!

"Oh!" Meiling said. "I almost forgot why I came here."

She fumbled in her tiny sachet, and produced a heavy gold necklace, set with the largest diamonds in the kingdom.

"I think I saw you drop this on your way in," Meiling said, as innocently as she could. "I was just waiting for the luncheon to end so I could return it to you, Milady."

Yelan's eyes widened as she took the necklace from Meiling's fingers.

"Why…" she stuttered, frowning. "That is really something. I do not even remember putting it on!"

"Thank you, child," Yelan said, looking at Meiling in a renewed light. "I must say, it is a lady of great virtue who would return such an expensive necklace."

Meiling blushed modestly, though inwardly, she smirked. The Queen was falling for her trap, hook, line and sinker.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," she said, as casually as she could.

"I must say the same of you," Yelan said earnestly, putting her necklace into her sachet. "Would you kindly care to visit me tomorrow? For a little chat?"

Meiling's smile widened as she nodded slowly.

"Your wish is my command, Your Majesty."

Yelan nodded. "Good. And bring your mother with you. It's high time I had a chat with Lady Sonomi as well."

Meiling nodded as she backed out of the room.

"As you wish, Milady."

* * *

"Pick one."

"I can't."

"Just choose one."

"I could no sooner choose a favourite star in the sky."

Back at the old castle, Syaoran had given Sakura a quick tour of the library. Now he stood by, waiting patiently as she struggled to choose a book.

"If you would pardon my asking," he said tentatively. "What is it about these books that fascinates you so?"

Sakura thought for a moment.

"Well…" she said slowly. "I suppose it started from when I was very young. My father taught me how to read, and before then, he would stay up late reading to me." She smiled reminiscently. "I'd fall asleep listening to the sound of his voice."

"Your father taught you how to read?" Syaoran asked, hardly able to believe it. Who would have imagined? A Count, teaching his daughter how to  _read_. Usually a father didn't even have time for his daughters. Until it was time for them to marry, in which case, they had all the time in the world to find the richest suitor possible.

"Yes," Sakura said thoughtfully. "We were all the other had. I suppose he thought of me as the son he never had."

"Your father wanted a son," Syaoran nodded, understanding. The Countess' history was possibly just as fascinating as the Countess herself.

"He had a son," Sakura continued, her eyes misting over. "My brother. He was four years older than me. But he died as an infant, and then, after I was born, my mother died as well."

Syaoran didn't know what to say. Normal courtiers understood so little of true pain. This one had grown in it. Maybe that accounted for her sincerity and strength of will?

"So it was simply your father and yourself?" Syaoran asked.

"Yes," Sakura said, smiling as she remembered the days when her father was alive. "He used to find all the time in the world for me. He taught me many things – unconventional for a woman, I suppose, but useful nonetheless. He left me his passion for reading, as he travelled a great deal, and would bring me lots of books to read."

"Books about what?" Syaoran asked, eager to know more.

Sakura sighed.

"Everything," she said. "Science, philosophy…works by the greatest authors alive. I didn't care what it was, as long as I could read it.  _Utopia_  was the last book he brought home."

"How long ago was that?" Syaoran asked, frowning.

"Ten years ago," Sakura said, her face darkening.

Syaoran didn't know whether to intrude or not. Finally, he asked, tentatively. "Why did he stop bringing you books to read? If you wouldn't mind answering."

Sakura didn't mind answering.

"He died," she said shortly. "When I was eight years old."

Syaoran nodded, absorbing these facts. He turned around, and walked slowly toward another row of books. Sakura noticed, and followed him, curiously.

"Is there anything wrong?" she called.

Syaoran froze, and when he turned, there was a new look in his eyes. Something different from the carefree young man she had witnessed earlier. This man was older, and there was something in his eyes apart from the hopes of love and happiness that she had seen earlier. There was darkness, anguish, and something more intense in his face as he answered.

"In all my life," he said quietly, "I have never known  _one_  teacher to demonstrate a  _fraction_  of the passion you have shown me since I met you."

Sakura was dumbfounded.

"You live a life of your own, one that you determine for yourself," Syaoran continued, and there was definitely a bitterness in his voice now. "You have your ideals and your passions, and you adorn yourself with those. You exhaust yourself trying to fulfill your aspirations to the fullest, and in doing so, you leave no room for anything else. It's – as though you are the brightest light in a garden. The other moths nearby cannot help being attracted to you – and in seeking to come close to you, they lose themselves."

Sakura's hands flew to her face as she approached the prince.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, standing behind the prince. "I didn't – if I've said anything that offended you, Sire –"

" _Syaoran_ ," the prince corrected as he turned around to face Sakura, eyes blazing. He placed his hands on her shoulders, somewhat more roughly than was proper. "And please don't apologize. It doesn't suit you."

Sakura nodded wordlessly. She wasn't capable of speaking. She was petrified by the look in Syaoran's eyes. It frightened her more than all of the Lady Sonomi's threats over the course of a lifetime.

* * *

Scarcely an hour later, Syaoran was frowning at his horseman. Behind him, Sakura waited patiently, as the men examined the broken carriage wheel, scowling.

"Well, this is quite embarrassing," Syaoran remarked. "The one time I take a lady with me –"

"I'll head back to the castle, Your Highness," the horseman said. "Doubtless the guard is still there."

"Perhaps…" Syaoran glanced at the path ahead of them, with his eyes narrowed. As though calculating the distance from his present spot to his castle.

"I shall return with the guard," the horseman said, climbing onto the horse's saddle, and galloping off. "Don't stray too far!"

Syaoran blinked.

"Of all the days," he murmured, just loud enough for Sakura to hear him. "My horseman has given me an order."

"Perhaps you had best do him the courtesy of obeying it," Sakura replied, "as he seems to obey your own readily enough."

Syaoran didn't even seem to hear Sakura's reply as a sudden grin spread over his face. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and led her down the forest path.

"Your High – Syaoran!" Sakura cried, keeping up with the prince. "Where are we going?"

Syaoran didn't even pause as he answered.

"We're going ahead."

"On  _foot_?" Sakura questioned. Prince Syaoran was full of more surprises than she'd ever dared to imagine.

"How else would you enjoy the atmosphere of the forest?" Syaoran asked, smirking. "I for one would assume that you do it all the time, Countess."

"But – to your castle!" Sakura said, exasperated. "It's half a day's walk!"

Syaoran stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned to face Sakura. There was a very strange expression on his face.

"Honestly, Nadeshiko, I'm disappointed," he said dryly. "Where is your fabled sense of adventure?"

And with that, he let go of her hand and continued walking briskly down the tree-lined pathway.

Sakura felt her heart drop like a stone and settle somewhere in her stomach as she raced after him.

_God, help me…_

* * *


	11. hypnotized

 

**chapter eleven. hypnotized**

* * *

Syaoran sighed as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, frustrated. He could see glimpses of the sky turning a faint lavender as the sun continued its descent into the west. The shadows of the trees around him grew longer. He glanced at the rather large, and very tall tree behind him, a tinge of red creeping across his face as his eyes travelled to the shimmering peach gown lying carelessly on the ground near his feet. A pair of gold-embroidered satin slippers was strewn next to them. Jewels littered the ground haphazardly.

Hand closing about the hilt of the sword against his waist, Syaoran berated himself silently.  _How could you get lost? How?!_

"You'd think I'd know the way to my own castle," he muttered darkly, crossing his arms about his chest.

The Countess must have had sharper ears than he had expected, because she called back to him.

"Why is it that men never ask for directions?" she asked, laughter in her voice. "Would it have been too much of a strain on your royal reputation?"

"Perhaps," Syaoran replied wryly. "Maybe it was also because…there was no one in this confounded forest to ask!"

Sakura didn't answer. Instead, silence met Syaoran's ears for the next few moments.

"I see it!" she called finally. "The castle!"

"Really?" Syaoran scrambled to attention. "Where?"

"It's southwest of here," Sakura replied. "Back that way. You've been leading us in the wrong direction, sire!"

"Well, I'll be damned," Syaoran muttered under his breath. He craned his neck, trying to discern the top of the tree in front of him. "And I still can't believe that I'm twiddling my thumbs down here, while you're all the way up there!" he called.

 _And in your undergarments too, no less_ , he finished, too polite to say so out loud.

Sakura grinned at him from her perch at the top of the tree, though she could barely see him.

"What would you expect?" she demanded. "That I let you come up here, and let myself wait down there, alone and unprotected?"

"You? Unprotected?" Syaoran's scepticism was quite believable. "I refuse to believe it. You swim alone, climb trees, rescue servants…with pastimes such as those, you'd be able to protect yourself very well, I expect!"

"Perhaps," Sakura replied. "But if you climbed this tree, you might break your royal neck. And then where would we be?"

Syaoran gritted his teeth, knowing the Countess was deliberately teasing him.

"Just come down here," he ordered. "We're late as is."

Sakura raised her eyebrows.

"I'm coming," she answered. "Turn around, and don't you dare look."

Syaoran complied, his thoughts disturbed.  _Why did she have to take off her gown?_  he demanded. Well, the answer was obvious. It was clearly impractical to climb such a tall tree with that gown on, but all the same…the strange and rather crude desire to see the Countess' body overwhelmed him. He shook himself violently, trying to rid himself of it. He was a gentleman, after all. Although he had never quite felt this way before…

 _It's Countess Nadeshiko_ , he thought to himself, closing his eyes.  _You're obsessed with her. She's driving you crazy_ …

_Wham!_

Stars danced in front of Syaoran's eyes as a fist connected to his mouth forcefully. He landed painfully on his rear, dazed. It took him a good three seconds before he realized that he had just been punched in the face. As the world steadied itself around his head, he could see that a group of motley men had surrounded him. The one that had punched him grinned wickedly, revealing a row of sharp, yellowing teeth.

"Hello there, Your Highness," he said in a thick accent, leering. "Remember me?"

Syaoran frowned, thinking fast. The gypsy seemed familiar. Then he remembered.

"Oh no," he groaned, getting to his feet. "It's  _you_  again…"

The gypsy clapped his hands, beckoning to his comrades. It was the same band that had attempted to rob Clow Reed of his book a few days earlier. And the one who had stolen the book was the one who was drawing a rusty, yet sharp-looking dagger. His eyes glared maliciously into Syaoran's face.

Syaoran anticipated the gypsy's next move, sidestepping him swiftly as the gypsy lunged. Caught off balance, the gypsy swayed dangerously. Within moments, Syaoran had whipped out his sword and disarmed the man, catching his dagger in his left arm. Brandishing the two blades warningly, he called up to Sakura, to warn her.

"Don't come down, Nadeshiko!" he yelled. "There are gypsies here."

He had to pray that the Countess had heard, because he had no time to say any more. Another gypsy had flung a knife toward his face, and with a gasp, Syaoran knocked the blade away with a flick of his sword. The knifepoint buried itself into the tree trunk.

With a yell, the entire band of gypsies charged toward Syaoran. One solitary gypsy waited, watching amusedly. He was obviously their leader. His band would weaken the prince. It was up to him to finish him off.

Syaoran parried one blade, ducked as two more came rushing in over his head, and turned around, knocking the wind out of three men as he drove the flat of the rusty dagger into their stomachs. They fell to their feet, winded as Syaoran swung his sword, desperately aiming for the opposing gypsy's arm. Not to kill him, but to wound him.

The gypsy parried his blade, and jabbed toward Syaoran's shoulder. Quick as a flash, Syaoran ducked beneath the offending sword, and, spinning around in a crouch, caught the gypsy in a spectacular kick to the stomach. He straightened himself, felt the approach of more men from behind, and whipped around just in time to lock his own two blades against the swords of the two gypsies now in front of him.

 _Get your back to a tree_ , Syaoran thought, his eyes roving around him.  _So they can't get you from behind_.

Still maintaining the tension between the opposing blades, Syaoran willed himself to take three steps back, to where a giant tree was. It might have worked, had there not been an exposed root lying in the way of his feet. His foot connected with this, and Syaoran fell backward. The two gypsies fell with him, face forward, landing in a heap, one on either side. Syaoran lay on the ground, his own blades still parrying the gypsies' swords, dangerously close to his neck.

He somersaulted backward, his arms flying outward, freed from the oppression of the offending swords. He looked behind him, making sure there were no obstructions in his path. A blow to his left arm sent the rusty dagger spiralling out of his hand.

Syaoran staggered backward, his back against the old tree. The two gypsies righted themselves, preparing to charge. Syaoran's left arm was numb. His grip on his sword tightened as the two gypsies charged. He extended his left leg, sending one man flying back six feet before landing in a heap. The other, he swung his sword, but he was growing tired, and the gypsy swung his own sword with two hands, twisting Syaoran's arm so that it lay against the tree, the sword in his hand locked by the gypsy's. Syaoran tried to free himself, but he found himself pinned against the tree as well, the gypsy throwing his weight against Syaoran's body.

 _I'm doomed_ , Syaoran thought desperately.  _Now the leader will come and finish me off. I'm so tired. At least Nadeshiko is safe_.

His ears suddenly registered the leader of the gypsies calling in alarm. His eyes roving to the scene, he saw the Countess come from out of nowhere, landing on the gypsy's back. They both landed on the ground. The Countess was swifter than the bulkier man, and got to her feet, her eyes roving for a discarded weapon. The gypsies were too fast for her. Two of them jumped her from behind, grabbing her arms in an iron grip.

Syaoran's heartbeat quickened. The Countess was in danger.

 _Oh no you don't_ , he thought angrily. The feeling beginning to return in his left hand, free from the gypsy's weight, he flexed his fingers, drew his arm back and sent a lightning fast punch to the gypsy's nose. He heard something crunch, and blood spurted across Syaoran's vision as the man staggered backward, nursing his broken nose.

Syaoran charged to where the two men held the Countess. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he let out a roar and leaped upon one of the men holding Sakura. Driving his fist into the side of the man's head, Syaoran felt the other man draw close to him. Swords were useless at his range, he realized, sheathing his at lightning speed. He sucked in his breath, fisting his hands around the other, and spun around. His elbows crashed against the man's forehead, and the man collapsed, stirring feebly. Syaoran whirled around, his amber eyes searching wildly for the Countess.

He stopped when a swordblade appeared, an inch from his throat. Syaoran tore his eyes from the blade tickling his throat to the gypsy who carried it. The leader of the band met his eyes steadily, as around them, groaning men got to their feet.

Syaoran sensed that Countess Nadeshiko was still standing at his side. He reached for her blindly, and pushed her behind him. The motion sent a clear message. He would die before he let any of the gypsies touch her.

"A strange prize," the gypsy commented. "You guard her well."

Syaoran didn't dare reach for his sword. The swordtip against his throat was menacing.

"Leave her alone," he replied coldly. "Your fight is with me."

The gypsy rose an eyebrow. Syaoran noticed that the gypsy's left arm was held somewhat cautiously, as though it had been injured. He remembered the Countess crashing into him. Why had she come down when he had warned her not to? Then another gypsy approached, grinning as he waved something peach and satiny.

Nadeshiko's dress.

"My wife thanks you for the fine garment, my lady," the gypsy leered. Syaoran felt his blood boiling. His hands itched to break the man's neck, but he held them quite still. The gypsy's sword was still held purposefully to his throat.

The Countess stepped out from behind Syaoran, authoritative though she stood only in a white under-dress.

 _What are you doing?_  Syaoran thought wildly.  _Get back here before you get yourself killed!_

"I insist that you return my things at once," Sakura said quietly, her green eyes fixed on the gypsy who carried her dress. As the leader of the gypsies began to shake with laughter, she turned to glare at him.

"And you,  _sir_ ," she said regally. The gypsy straightened, fighting laughter. "Since you deprived me of my escort, I demand a horse as well."

Syaoran stood, flabbergasted. Countess Nadeshiko must have had nerves of steel, he decided. And a spine made of stronger stuff than most men he knew.

The look on the gypsy leader's face was quite funny. He stood there, gaping at the lady, who stared frozenly back at him, defiant in her undergarments even! He was wondering whether she was serious, and after much debate, decided that Countess Amamiya was not someone to be taken lightly.

"My  _lady_ ," he replied, his body shaking with mirth as he lowered the sword. "I am truly sorry for my actions. As compensation, you can leave safely. With  _anything you can carry_."

If he expected the young lady to look worried, or even fazed, he was sorely disappointed. An odd look came into Sakura's eyes, as she absorbed the gypsy's words, and glared at him again.

"Do I have your word on it, sir?" she inquired, somewhat more politely. Syaoran could have laughed at the situation if not for the precariousness of it. The gypsy, obviously disarmed by the unexpected courage of the tough Countess, was still unable to see her as a real threat to them.

"On my honour as a gypsy," he said finally, grinning. "Whatever you can carry out of here is yours."

 _That's perfect_ , Syaoran thought.  _That doesn't leave her with much. She can get her gown and jewels back, but the horse? How is she supposed to carry a horse out of here?_

Sakura's intentions became horribly clear to him as she stepped in between him and the leader of the gypsies. Watching the shock in the man's eyes reflect his own, Syaoran felt the brave Countess bend down before him, before being hoisted into the air and laid awkwardly across Sakura's strong shoulders.

Syaoran could not believe this. He was being rescued – no –  _carried_  away from danger. By a young Countess in her undergarments!

The gypsies' mouths dropped open. It must have been quite a sight, as Sakura nodded curtly to their leader, and took step by careful step onto the path, carrying Prince Syaoran across her shoulders away from them.

The gypsy band burst into laughter at the sight of it, waiting for the young lady to collapse under the prince's weight. But it did not happen. She made her way slowly, but surely down the path, with no intention of dropping him.

"Do you think she means to  _carry_  him all the way to the castle!" one gypsy exclaimed.

"I doubt she'd make it," another commented.

"She's strong," one snorted. "I'll wager she could do it, and come back for a horse, too!"

The gypsies rolled around in laughter.

"What do you say we do?" one of the gypsies asked the leader, who was observing Sakura's progress with mirth on his face. "Do we follow them and finish them off?"

The leader shook his head, grinning.

"Nah," he said. "It'd be a waste. As much as I hate royalty, you have to admit, that young lady deserves to live. I don't think I've ever had that much fun in my life!"

He broke into laughter.

"My lady!" he called after Sakura's retreating form, shrinking in the distance. "Please! Come back, I'll give you a horse…"

* * *

Sonomi stood by the window in her room, frowning as the sun set in the distance.

Meiling joined her side.

"What vexes you, Mother?" she inquired, too cheerful to be bothered by the dark look on her mother's face. "We are dining with the Queen Yelan herself tomorrow…and Prince Syaoran too! How could you possibly be upset at a time like this?"

"Sakura's gone," Sonomi said stiffly, her eyes narrowing.

"So?" Meiling was unperturbed. "How could you possibly be upset? We're free of Cinderella and left to do what we want!"

"You don't understand…" Sonomi said in a low voice. "She wouldn't just leave here. If she's away from home, she usually has a purpose. And I want to know what that girl gets up to."

Suki shuffled into the room, to set logs to the Lady Daidouji's fire.

"Any news of Sakura?" Sonomi demanded sharply, her eyes not moving from the window.

Suki straightened, shaking her head.

"No, Milady," she replied. "No news."

Sonomi's mouth thinned into the thinnest of lines.

"Well, I want to be informed the moment she comes back," she ordered. "No matter if it's in the middle of the night. I don't want her in here without some explanation. Is that clear?"

Suki nodded silently.

Sonomi's eyes took in the sky, darkening rapidly.

 _All right, girl,_  she thought vehemently.  _I know you would die before running away from here. So you haven't run away. But you've been gone all day. What are you up to_?

* * *

The sky was dark, the sun having set in the west long hours since. The wind stirred the night air, stirring the newly green trees. The chill in the air was not enough to dampen the spirits of the raucous men in the gypsy camp. Situated in a clear in the forest, not too far from where Reed's cart used to stand, the small band of men worked hard and fast to set up a giant roaring fire that dispelled the coldness from the air, and heated skewers of game and flagons of ale.

"It's the best in the land, my lady!" the leader of the gypsies said jovially, offering Sakura a wooden cup of the foaming liquid. "Drink it up, you'll really feel the heat then…"

Sakura smiled wryly as she accepted the cup. She sat cross-legged on the ground, close to the fire. A moment later, Syaoran sat down next to her. The gypsies hadn't ignored their royal visitor, Sakura noticed amusedly, as there was a flagon of strong ale in Syaoran's hands too. And it was already half-empty.

"Is it any good?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow.

Syaoran saw Sakura's eyes fixed on his cup, and he coughed.

"It's quite strong," he said uncertainly. "I wouldn't normally recommend it for a lady. But then again, I don't know whether most ladies can lift a full-grown man on their back and walk for another mile without breaking a sweat!"

Sakura smiled modestly, the red blush creeping onto her face hidden by the leaping orange firelight.

"You give me too much credit," she said finally. "It was barely twenty steps –"

"Modest, are we?" Syaoran asked, amused. "I'm impressed. I haven't met a lady to this day who even knows the meaning of the word."

Sakura tilted her head in acknowledgment. She glanced at her cup uncertainly.

"I'll wager you're strong enough to handle that," Syaoran commented, nodding toward the cup of ale. He set his own down on the ground beside him.

"You really think so?" Sakura asked him, frowning. That would be enough to crown her day. To maybe get herself so drunk, in a gypsy camp, sitting so close to Syaoran –

"Of course," Syaoran nodded. "I've seen stronger stuff than that go down the throats of weaker men than you."

Sakura turned even redder at the compliment as she took the cup in both hands and glanced at it, thinking. Should she? Common sense told her not to. But there seemed to be very little common sense in her body that night. Recklessness seemed to be coursing through her veins, along with something strange that made her heart pound faster than usual.

She raised the cup.

"Well, here goes," she said bracingly. She put the cup to her lips and downed half of the cup in one giant gulp. She gasped as she swallowed, grimacing at the aftertaste. It was stronger than she'd ever expected. The ale had a bitter taste and it burned the back of her throat as it went down. Maybe it was only her imagination, or was the ale indeed so strong it was making her head turn?

"Are you alright?" Syaoran asked, his hands shooting out to grip Sakura's shoulders, steadying her as she swayed slightly.

Sakura was feeling slightly dizzy, but her nerves were buzzing pleasantly and warmth was flowing through every part of her body.

"I'm alright," she said, her voice coming out clearer and steadier than she felt. "It was a bit stronger than I'd expected."

"Are you sure?" Syaoran asked, his worried eyes searching Sakura's face.

Sakura nodded. Syaoran's face was crowding her vision. His hands were on her shoulders, and his face was barely inches from hers.

"I'm fine," she repeated. Mustering as much control as she could, she then added, "You can let go of me now."

Syaoran seemed to come out of a stupor. His eyes registered on his hands gripping her shoulders, and he hastily removed them.

"I'm sorry about that," he said abruptly.

Sakura smiled as she set down her cup.

"So formal again?" she asked dryly. "We're in the middle of a gypsy camp. There's ale in our hands. I'm barefoot, in my undergarments, and wrapped in a gypsy's cloak. Don't think of me as a courtier now. Just – pretend that we're one of them, just for now."

The part of Sakura's mind that still seemed sane screamed at her.  _What are you doing?! You can't do this! He's a prince, and you're a servant! And you lied to him! This is wrong! Stop!_

Unfortunately, this part of her mind seemed to be growing smaller and smaller. Rational thought seemed impossible, especially when Syaoran was so close to her, his chestnut hair dishevelled, and his big amber eyes fixed on hers with a smouldering intensity.

"You have no idea…" Syaoran murmured absently. "How much I would love to do that. Just – be a gypsy, or another common man. To be free of the court and royalty and kingship and everything else."

Sakura's eyes widened.

"But why?" she asked.

Syaoran turned his head away, gazing into the fire. Around them, the gypsies had struck up music, and were dancing around the giant fire. The camp whirled around the two of them. It was as though Sakura and Syaoran were in a world of their own.

"I don't want to be king," he said flatly.

"But why not?" Sakura asked, shifting onto her knees. "Just think of what you could do for your country if you were king. What you could do for your people."

"Yes, but –" Syaoran wrenched his gaze from the fire. "I can't take the pressure I've been put under. Do you know what it's like, living at the castle? It's like prison. A cage. In which I've been shut in without ever wanting it. All I ever wanted was freedom, Nadeshiko. The freedom to live my own life, independent of others. The freedom to choose what to say, who to befriend. The freedom to choose the woman I want to marry. But I don't even have that. All I have is a crown, and it's precious little compared to what I don't have."

"But you already have so much," Sakura said softly. "Can't you see that? You have a roof over your head, and a castle so grand, all else can only dream to live in it. And if not for want to material pleasures, what about those who love you? You have parents, Syaoran. Parents who love you and want the best for you. How can you say that you have nothing?"

"It's not much," Syaoran mumbled. "I have all these things. But I have no freedom to do what I want."

"You always have freedom," Sakura replied. "You're the prince, and if you live thus trapped, the rest of us are doomed. You say you wish to live life independently, but that's impossible. Every life is dependent on another. If as the prince you are dependent, then how do you propose to live life as a gypsy, for example? They are as defined by their status as their title defines you, yet it does nothing to help them. At least, you have the freedom to do with the kingdom as you choose. You can choose to follow what society demands of you. Or you can choose to demand of society what you want for it. Just think about it, Syaoran. But don't ever curse your fate. You've been born to privilege, but for that, you will have to fulfill specific obligations."

Syaoran stared at Sakura disbelievingly.

"What?" Sakura asked, unsettled by the way Syaoran was staring at her.

Syaoran shook his head.

"For a courtier, you talk a  _lot_ ," he said, astonished. "I knew you were outspoken, but I had no idea you could let your mouth run away with you like that –"

Sakura stared at him, mortified. Was Syaoran offended, or impressed?

"I didn't mean –" she stuttered, as Syaoran's gaze fell upon her once again. "I shouldn't have said that. My mouth gets me into a lot of trouble."

Syaoran's eyes locked onto Sakura's mouth as she spoke. She had a beautiful mouth. Sweetly curving, with lips so full and strangely pink. They looked so soft, he thought absently. What would they taste like? And he found himself wanting to try – he leaned closer.

Sakura was aware of the minimal distance between her and the prince. She knew she should stop him, before things spun out of control. But there was already no control. And she was mesmerized by Syaoran's eyes. Hypnotized. She was just as lost as he was.

Their lips brushed softly together, almost as if by accident. Then – it was impossible to tell who moved first – their lips met again, firmer than before.

Sakura's eyes widened. She wanted to protest – but she didn't. Want to protest. The feeling Syaoran's lips against her own was radiating pulses of electricity in every fibre of her being. So, instead of doing what her usually practical self would do, she yielded. She closed her eyes, as Syaoran broke away.

They sat there, facing each other, for perhaps a moment. Maybe two. And then, Syaoran closed the distance between them, taking Sakura's hands in his, and kissed her lips once again. More decisively. He could feel the Countess' breathing growing ragged. The taste of her lips was indescribable. He wanted more. Sakura's mouth was slightly parted. He deepened the kiss, her mouth tasting as sweet as her lips. Sakura moaned slightly as he increased the pressure against her mouth. There were sparks flying wherever their bodies touched. Her mind was completely disconnected. Shut down. There was nothing in her, but the feeling of Syaoran slowly exploring the inside of her mouth. It felt good.

God, it felt like she had died and was in heaven.

The sound of laughter broke the spell. They broke apart as the gypsies stood facing them, in awe.

Sakura met Syaoran's eyes, and they both averted their gazes. Both turned bright red as the entire gypsy camp exploded in hoots and laughter. And applause.

Syaoran coughed nervously. Sakura bit her lip nervously.

"Well…"

"Er…"

A gypsy sidled over to them, and clapped a hand amicably on each of their shoulders.

"Took you two long enough," he remarked.

Sakura and Syaoran's eyes widened as the gypsy walked off, grinning.

* * *

It was so quiet, away from the raucous noise of the gypsy camp. Sakura wanted to treasure this feeling, as she sat on the rough horse the gypsies lent them. Syaoran's arm was around her waist protectively as he drove the horse slowly with the reins. She was pressed against his chest, her cheek positioned against his mouth. They rode in silence, the horse trotting along the woodland path slowly, for fear of breaking the ephemeral perfection of the moment.

"Where is your home, Nadeshiko?" Syaoran whispered against her ear.

Sakura pointed down the pathway, where the faint lights of the Daidouji estate could be seen.

"Right down the pathway," she replied softly.

Syaoran nodded, turning the horse. It nickered softly.

"Right here would be fine," Sakura said hastily, fearing to come too close to the estate. The household was clothed in sleep, but Meiling could smell the prince a mile away, in her sleep.

Syaoran got off the horse, and helped Sakura get off. They stood there, frozen, as Syaoran's hands still rested on her waist.

"You saved my life," he said simply. "Back there. In the forest."

Sakura nodded, offering a small smile.

"A girl does what she can," she replied vaguely.

Syaoran's hands dropped from her waist. Sakura made her way silently down the path to her home.

"Nadeshiko?"

Sakura halted, and turned around to face Syaoran.

"Do you know where the ruins are?" he asked.

"You mean the ones by the lake?" Sakura replied, thinking fast. "The ones in the ravine?"

"Yes, those," Syaoran said. "I – go there a lot. It's very peaceful. Would you meet me there, tomorrow?"

Sakura felt her heart drop in her stomach. How could she let herself get into this? Sonomi would have her head. Doubtless she had been missed all day today, and would not be allowed to leave Sonomi's sight for the next week.

 _I don't care_ , she found herself thinking.  _I don't care how much trouble I get into. I wouldn't have traded tonight for anything._

"I'll try," she replied, and saw Syaoran's eyes light up.

"Then," he said, vaulting onto the horse, a smile spreading across his face, "I'll wait there for you all day."

* * *


	12. a secret revealed

 

**chapter twelve. a secret revealed**

* * *

It was late in the morning. Sakura buried her head into her arms, groaning as the bright sunlight fell across her face. She felt like a mess. Her head was pounding from the lack of sleep, her limbs ached from the exertion of the day before, and her mind was spinning. Spinning with euphoria. And guilt. Euphoric because she and the prince...well... And guilt, because everything she shared with him was based on a lie. Because she wasn't who he thought she was, and by allowing herself to fall in love with him, she was indeed no better than Meiling or the rest of the girls who sought the prince's hand in marriage. Who cared if she didn't want the crown? She had still lied to him...

Who could get any sleep with dilemmas like those?

As if punctuating this particular thought, something hard and scratchy came down on Sakura's form, jolting her awake with a sharp gasp. She scrabbled onto her back to see a concerned Tomoyo, an amused Meiling, and a cross Sonomi wielding a broom.

"Are you ill?" Sonomi asked suspiciously, regarding the girl in front of her. Indeed, Sakura looked worse for the wear, stark white, with dark shadows under her eyes and lips darkened and swollen.

"N – yes," Sakura groaned, clapping a hand to her forehead, which felt fit to burst.

Sonomi raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Meiling, who shrugged.

"Where were you yesterday?" Sonomi demanded, brandishing the broom in her hands threateningly. "When did you get back home?"

Sakura thought fast, trying to think of some excuse. Any excuse. On a normal day, she could have come up with several. But today, all she could think of were Syaoran's eyes, his smile, his lips upon her own -

"I – had to see the doctor," Sakura mumbled, jamming her eyes shut. "And then I got – lost."

Sonomi stared at her stepdaughter incredulously.

"You got  _lost_ ," she repeated slowly.

Sakura didn't answer.

Sonomi brought the broom crashing down on Sakura's legs, causing her to sit up straight with a yelp.

"I think you're lying to me," Sonomi hissed in a low voice, bringing her face close to Sakura's. "You're hiding something from me, and I order you to tell me what it is."

Docility was fickle. Usually Sakura would comply with her stepmother's wishes, but again, this day was different. Oh so different...

"I can't help it if you feel that way," she said in a slurred voice, yawning widely. "But if you feel like I'm hiding something, why don't you tell me what it is, so that I can get back to sleep?"

She lay back down and closed her eyes again, anticipating the wave of fury that would come from Sonomi or Meiling.

Sakura was not disappointed, as Meiling swelled with anger.

"And our  _breakfast_?!" she shrieked (in quite an unladylike manner). "What about  _that_?"

"What about it?" Sakura replied, snuggling her head into her hands. "You have two hands. Make it yourself."

Meiling's jaw dropped as she stared at her mother, disbelievingly.

Sonomi had had enough. Picking herself up, she flounced out of Sakura's quarters disdainfully. Tomoyo followed, hiding a grin as Meiling made her way out with quite a bad temper.

Sakura groaned again as she turned around and tried to get comfortable. She was in for it when she rose later on that day...

* * *

In the palace, the day did not start quite so early. At least, not in the royal bedchamber. King Xiao Lang and Queen Yelan slumbered peacefully, quite untroubled by the world outside of their flowing canopied bed. Well, at least until the drapes were unceremoniously yanked apart, flooding their bed with bright morning sunlight.

Xiao-Lang was the first to react. Half-awake, he muttered sleepily, "Who's there?"

Syaoran rolled his eyes.

"It's just me, Father."

Xiao-Lang coughed and sat up, eyes open and fixed on his son, who stood there at the foot of his bed, looking tired, but beaming.

Yelan rose too, yawning.

"Syaoran, what -?"

"Mother, Father, I have a proposition for you," Syaoran announced, grinning. It had been an idea bouncing around in his head ever since he had met Nadeshiko, but now –  _especially_  now – he wanted to bring it into fruition. He wanted to see the look on his face when he told her – he could already imagine her, face glowing and eyes sparkling.

Xiao-Lang's eyes narrowed.

"Bit early in the morning for that, isn't it?" he asked, suspiciously.

Yelan tossed a withering glance at her husband before eying her son appraisingly.

"Er – I had an idea," Syaoran said, fiddling with the sheets of his parents' bed. "I wanted a university to be built here. In Japan."

"Aren't there several already?" Xiao-Lang clearly wanted to get back to bed.

"Not like the one I want," Syaoran corrected him. "All the universities here are private, teaching only those who can afford to pay their weight in silver. I meant a university – the best in the kingdom – where  _anyone_  can come and study, no matter what their class or background! I want this institution to be subsidized, that those of less wealhy parentage can afford to learn there, and I also want this university to have  _the_  largest library on the continent!"

Xiao-Lang pulled the covers up to his chin, staring open-mouthed at Syaoran.

"As you wish," he said hoarsely. "And out of curiosity – who are you, and what have you done with my son?"

Yelan scoffed.

"Oh! To bed with you!" she admonished him. She glanced fondly at her son. "I think it's a  _wonderful_  idea, Syaoran! Is there anything else you want?"

"Er – yes," Syaoran said, grinning. "I also wanted to invite the gypsies to the ball tonight!"

And he pulled the curtains shut and strode out of his parents' chamber, feeling very pleased with himself.

* * *

Sakura had finally awoken and was in a foul mood as she kneeled on the stone pathway outside the foyer and scrubbed away at it with a strong-smelling concoction that left her hands feeling red raw. Bitter thoughts of resentment rang murderously through her mind as she brought the harsh cloth into the bucket and, feeling her knuckles burning, ran it across the stone.

 _Who scrubs outdoor pathways anyway?_  She asked herself viciously, wringing the cloth out before submerging it into the bucket again.  _No sooner do you clean it, before it grows dirty again!_

Needless to say, when Suki leaned out of an upstars window and beckoned to her, Sakura was most intrigued.

"Get in here  _quick_!" Suki hissed, just loud enough for Sakura to hear.

Curious, Sakura sprang up from where she kneeled, knees aching as she turned and raced into the house, upsetting the bucket in the process. She dashed up three flights of strairs, to see Suki pointing to the stairway that led to the attic. Sakura made her way there, and could hear voices before walking into the attic.

She froze at the scene in front of her. Sonomi, Meiling and Tomoyo were there, along with an open trunk. Sakura's eyes travelled across the room in front of her. Tomoyo, who had been examining her mother's finest shoes; Meiling, who had her hands on her mother's ethereal  _wedding_  gown; Sonomi tucking here and there, seeing how it would fit on her favourite daughter...

"What's going on here?" Sakura asked sharply, her mind racing.

Sonomi turned to face Sakura, eyebrows raised.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence, ladies!" she exclaimed softly. "Did Her Highness finally bring it upon herself to rise?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Sakura asked through gritted teeth, ignoring her stepmother's words.

"Trying on my dress for the ball," Meiling said, fluttering her eyelashes at Sakura. "Like it?"

" _Like_  it?" Sakura repeated, her voice rising. "That's  _mine_! Get your filthy hands off of it!"

"Mind your manners, Sakura," Sonomi said, eyes glittering. "Since when have commoners owned  _finery_? Oh – and just in case you've still got your hopes up...did you honestly think that I'd let you go anywhere after that disgusting performance you put up downstairs?"

Sakura's temper had been souring gradually since morning, and it was nearing breaking point for her. She was tired of playing maidservant, she was tired of being suppressed by her cruel stepmother, and  _just who did Meiling think she was, anyway?_

"You disgust me," she said, her voice quaking with ill-concealed anger, "with your arrogance. You think that it's all this easy?! You'll put on a pretty gown and flutter your eyelashes and lo and behold, the prince will fall for you like – like some game to be trapped?"

Meiling smirked at Sakura's indignation. Tomoyo, ever the tactful one, set the shoes back in the trunk where they belonged.

"Hold your tongue," Meiling said, primly folding the dress and tucking it into the trunk beside the shoes. "What would  _you_  know of such matters anyway? You common little servant girl, scarce able to lace a bodice or hold a proper conversation with a nobleman –"

"If you can call your endless simpering and giggling a  _conversation_!" Sakura snapped, grabbing her mother's shoes and waving them around angrily. Meiling stiffened. "For your information, most find it simply unbearable! And what you're planning to do – it's disgusting and it'll never work! It'll take a lot more than just a pretty face to win over Prince Syaoran!"

"You're just jealous," Meiling said dismissively, straightening herself and sweeping her skirts arrogantly.

" _Jealous_?!" Sakura spat. "You rely on me to keep your house clean, to lace  _your_  bodice, press  _your_  skirts...and in case that's not enough, let's not forget, Meiling – the dress you plan on wearing tonight: it was my  _mother's_!"

Meiling flipped a long black odango over her shoulder.

" _Yes_ ," she said, in mock anxiety. "And she's  _dead_."

Sakura's face turned white as she walked slowly toward Meiling, shoes clutched tightly in her hand. Rage was building within her, as Meiling's taunt about her mother rang in her ears. The dam she had kept within herself to control her anger burst. She was beyond control.

She drew her right fist back and before anyone could think, she brought it crashing down onto Meiling's face with as much force as she could muster. Meiling screamed as she tumbled over the trunk backward, feet over her head.

Sakura saw red as she shoved the trunk out of her way.

" _That_  was for my mother, you  _foul -"_ she roared as Meiling got to her feet and sprinted out of the attic, screaming.

 _Oh no you don't_  -

Sakura tore after her, adrenaline pounding in her veins. There was only one desire in her mind right now: get Meiling and  _pound every inch of her sorry little body_.

"When I get my hands on you!" Sakura yelled as she neared Meiling at the bottom of the stairway, "I am going to  _rip your hair out_!"

Meiling shrieked in response, reaching the bottom of the stairway and shoving a chair in front of it, before dashing down another flight of steps.

Sakura took the steps two at a time, shoes still in hand, and knocked the chair flying sideways as she bounded after Meiling, who was screaming for help.

" _Mother! Do something!_ "

Sakura leapt four steps onto the landing where Meiling was. Meiling ducked nimbly and continued her descent down the stairs. Sakura growled and raced down the stairs after her.

Meiling raced into the dining room, trying to make her way to the door on the other end – but too late, Sakura had blocked off the way – she turned around on her heel and, in a rush of flying skirts, dashed back to the door which she had just come through – but once again, Sakura was too quick for her, appearing in front of her to block her progress. Meiling turned back, and Sakura tracked her like a hound hunting its prey across the table – candlesticks overturned, cutlery fell onto the floor, the tablecloth was a mess -

Meiling ducked under Sakura's arms, feeling her stepsister's hands close about one of her odangos. She shrieked as Sakura yanked on it with all her might -

Meiling stamped on Sakura's foot  _hard_  and elbowed her in the ribs, gasping as Sakura let go and scarpered down the hallway.

Sakura's anger intensified as she let out a yell of aggravation and fury. Gathering speed, she took a flying leap, catching Meiling around the legs as they both tumbled through a doorway and crashed into the wooden bookshelf in Sakura's quarters. Meiling recovered first, breaking free of Sakura's grip, blood flowing freely from an already-purpling eye. Sakura jumped to her feet a moment later, tearing after Meiling, cornering her by the fireplace and then -

To Sakura's horror, Meiling grabbed something from the mantel and waved it above the fire threateningly.

It was an ancient paperback – worn, thin, ragged from years and years of reading...

The last book her father had ever given her.

_Utopia._

"Give me the shoes," Meiling panted, her eyes shining wickedly.

Sakura paled.

"Put that down!" she yelled.

"First give me the shoes," Meiling said viciously. "Otherwise I'll burn your daddy's books – all of them, one by one -"

"You wouldn't  _dare_!" Sakura bellowed. "Lay a  _finger_  on them and I'll – I'll  _kill_  you!"

She lunged for Meiling, who sidestepped and brought the book closer to the fire.

"I don't want to do this," she said delicately. "Give me the shoes, and you can have your book back."

Sakura screamed, lunging for Meiling's neck, but seconds later, strong arms held her back. She struggled against them, but they held strong.

"Consider your choices carefully," came her stepmother's voice from beside her ear. "Your mother's shoes or your father's book?"

Sakura found herself thrown backward onto the floor. Sonomi stepped in front of her, face cold with fury. She had something in her hands – something black and leathery and twisting -

Sakura recognized it with a sickening feeling in her stomach. It was a  _whip_.

Sonomi intercepted Sakura's gaze.

"Neither will save you from a  _sound_  lashing," she said menacingly.

Sakura's eyes roved, trying to think of something. Her eyes flitted from the whip to Sonomi's merciless eyes to the shoes she held in her hands, and finally at the book Meiling held ever closer to the fire...

_Utopia...Father..._

And then she looked back at the shoes in her hands. They belonged to her mother. How could she give them up? This last memento of her?

But then – glass or crystal – it couldn't burn. But paper could. And this last memento of her mother – painful as it was – could outlive her favourite book. And so, her heart breaking with every movement she made, Sakura lifted her hand out, with the shoes still clasped tightly in her fingers.

Sonomi snatched them out of her hands imperiously. Sakura could have cried right then and there, but there was another heartbreak in store for her.

Meiling, seeing the shoes safe in her mother's hands, decided to break her stepsister once and for all, by throwing the paperback book into the blazing fire as vehemently as she could.

" _No!_ "

Sakura pushed past Sonomi, lunging into the fireplace, hands outstretched – it didn't matter if she burned her hands – they could heal – but her father's book was disappearing into the flames, her favourite book, her last memory of him – was burning – she had to save it -

But then Sonomi's arms closed around her again, strong, imprisoning,  _cruel_  -

" _What are you doing_?!" Sakura shrieked, pounding at her stepmother's arms, scratching, biting, kicking... " _Let me go_!"

But her stepmother was crueler than her stepsister, and though Sakura fought with all her strength, Sonomi's grip did not falter.

Tears poured down Sakura's face as she was forced to watch her book slowly being consumed by the flames...

"No..." she whispered, as  _Utopia_  crumbled into ashes, into nothingness... " _No..._ "

Sonomi finally let her go, and Sakura collapsed onto her knees, pressing her knuckles into her face, eyes fixed on the blackened remains of her father's last memory...

" _Which one's that?" she asked._

_Fujitaka took out the book and smiled. "Thomas More. Possibly the dullest you can find. I doubt an eight-year-old will have much interest in it –"_

_Sakura shook her head, intrigued. "What's it called?"_

" _Utopia," her father replied. "All about the ideals of a utopian society. I don't think you'd find it very interesting –"_

Sakura choked back a sob as the memories overwhelmed her. All these years – throughout her childhood and growing years – how many of her tears had fallen into its pages? How much of her pain had it helped alleviate? To some, it was mere words and paper bound together, but to her...it was as though she had lost one of her oldest friends...

Hands covering her face, Sakura bent over and sobbed like an animal, shoulders wracked with hysteric anguish, her breaths jagged and harsh as she had sacrificed her mother's last memories just in time to lose her father's...

Sonomi hoisted Sakura onto her feet, face grim with purpose. Meiling sidled over, taking the shoes from her mother's hands and watching interestedly as her mother tore the back of Sakura's gown open, that her bare back was exposed.

Sakura, locked in her own grief, didn't even notice all these things. She was not aware that she had been pressed against the mantel, her gown ripped open at the back... She couldn't sense Sonomi behind her, stepping back and uncoiling the whip behind her...

_Crack!_

Sakura let out a yelp of pain as Sonomi brought the whip crashing onto her bare back with as much force as she could muster. Sonomi brought the lash away, satisfied at the swollen red welt growing across the porcelain white skin. She heaved again, bringing the lash across Sakura's back, and then removing it slowly, hearing the sickly sound of the leathery hide unsticking from the swollen skin. Again...and then again...and then again...

Sakura closed her eyes as the blows rained down upon her back. She had been whipped by her stepmother before, but never like this...never past ten scourges. But now...there was so much pain, so much pain...but it was oddly numbed in comparison to the gaping hole in her heart –  _Utopia_  burned to ashes -

She stiffened as the lash met her back for what seemed like the fiftieth time. Her back was wet with blood, she knew. It was soaking the frayed ends of her bodice – the threads of her dress were mingling with the blood of her wounds...when the time would come for her to change her gown, it would rip her skin open again...

Sonomi began to pant as she continued to flog away at Sakura's back. It was getting quite messy. With every blow she landed on her back, blood spattered about everywhere: on the girl's ripped gown, on the floor, on her own gown, on her hands...

"Mother," Tomoyo pleaded for the thousandth time, her eyes wet with tears and her hands clasped in front of her tightly, "Mother,  _please_  stop it..."

Meiling cast her younger sister a disdainful look.

"But it's just getting  _interesting_ , Tomoyo," she said contemptuously. "Anyhow, I don't hear Sakura complaining – I'll bet she actually enjoys it, the little witch -"

And it continued in this vein for some time more – and only when Tomoyo threatened to go to the palace and inform the royal family of the way Meiling and Sonomi treated their servants did Sonomi finally, with a last vindictive tug of her lash, stop. She coiled up her whip, now soaked with blood and flounced out of the room, satisfaction grimly present on her face. Meiling followed her, a new spring in her step...

Tomoyo shook her head, taking in a shuddering breath as she ran her eyes over her battered stepsister. As Sakura swayed alarmingly, Tomoyo rushed to her aid, supporting Sakura by her arms as gently as she could, and laying her down on her stomach carefully on her mattress.

Sakura's back was a mess. Just looking at it made Tomoyo's eyes water with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, backing out of the room. "I'm so sorry..."

And she turned to fetch Suki, a bucket of warm water, and a rag.

* * *

Tomoyo finished applying the last bandage to Sakura's torn back. Suki had just gone to empty the bucket of bloodstained water, her face dark with anger.

Sakura winced.

"That's all better now," Tomoyo told her kindly. "Now that it's stopped bleeding and cleaned, it should heal soon."

Sakura nodded, her tearstained face still tucked into her face.

"I don't know why I did all that," she said hoarsely. "I – I don't know what's come over me, I really don't..."

Tomoyo pressed her lips in a tight line. Of course she would think that. But from where she stood, Tomoyo couldn't see how Sakura had done anything wrong. Maybe she had been a little bit snappy...but compared to Meiling, it was nothing, really!

"Though," she said with a small smile, "I'll never forget the way Meiling's feet went up over her head when you punched her this morning!"

Both of them giggled nervously.

Tomoyo stood up, regarding Sakura sadly.

"She shouldn't have said that about your mother," she said. "I'd'v reacted the same way – and I'm sorry for her. For you. For everything..."

Sakura closed her eyes – they were beginning to prickle dangerously again.

"Thank you, Tomoyo," she said in barely a whisper.

Tomoyo nodded and fled from the room, dangerously close to tears herself.

* * *

At the palace, Queen Yelan sat in her parlour. A sumptuous spread had been cleared away, and she was gazing concernedly at Meiling's eye, purpling and oozing blood.

"You must let my doctor look at that, dear," she said, frowning. "It is the least I can do, for a lady so brave as to save a baby from the hooves of a runaway horse!"

Meiling smiled modestly and glanced at her mother, seated next to her.

"Now, I'm sorry my son couldn't join us today," Yelan said, frowning at the empty seat at the square table. "But unfortunately, he seems to have disappeared, yet again..."

Sonomi's ears perked up.

" _Again_?" she asked, trying to sound surprised and – not suspicious in any way.

"I am afraid so," Yelan sighed. "He has a habit of disappearing – especially when beautiful young ladies are in the vicinity!" She beamed at Meiling.

"Although I didn't expect him to today..." she continued, face darkening. "I would have thought him to be too tired..."

"Tired?" Sonomi asked, as innocently as she could. "How so?"

Yelan laughed lightly.

"Well, he was gone all day yesterday, and did not return before dawn!"

Sonomi nodded as a sudden, dark fear struck her heart.

_The Prince was missing yesterday...and so was Sakura...could it be just a coincidence?_

"I would long for that kind of stamina, Your Majesty!" Meiling offered with a simpering smile.

"Why thank you, dear," Yelan said.

There was a slight pause, before Queen Yelan spoke again, quite thoughtfully.

"Perhaps you would be willing to solve a mystery for me?"

Sonomi leapt at the opportunity.

"Of course," she said, smiling ingratiatingly.

"I was wondering..." Yelan paused before continuing, "if you knew of the countess who has my son in quite a tizzy these days! Apparently she's here visiting a cousin, but no one seems to know who!"

Sonomi's eyebrows raised.  _The infamous Countess again_...she thought darkly.  _Oh, if only I knew who you were..._

"Her name?" Meiling asked sweetly.

"Oh..." Yelan thought for a moment. "It was the Countess Amamiya, I believe. Yes. Countess Amamiya."

Sonomi froze. Wave upon wave of shock crashed upon her.

 _Amamiya_?

There was only one she knew of by the name of Amamiya...

" _Nadeshiko_  Amamiya?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Yelan's face broke out into a smile of delight.

"Yes!" she said ecstatically. "That's her, that's the very one! You know, I was beginning to think she was a  _ghost_  or something..."

"Er, well..." Brushing aside the irony of the Queen's last statement, Sonomi forced herself to think very quickly. Nadeshiko was dead. Meaning there was only one woman out there who would ever use her name...

_Sakura._

"I'm afraid she's been around for  _years_  and ... staying with  _us_ , as a matter of fact!"

Sonomi fixed Meiling with a pointed stare.

"Isn't that right, dear?"

Meiling caught on, though she hadn't a clue who Countess Amamiya was.

"Oh...yes," she said, smiling. "She's our cousin, Your Majesty..."

Sonomi smiled,  _praying_  that Meiling would catch her next hint.

"Whom you like to call  _Cinderella_ ," she said pointedly.

Meiling nodded, and then, suddenly, her face mottled. There was a flash of rage, instantly suppressed as Yelan regarded her curiously.

"Is everything quite alright?"

Sonomi sighed melodramatically.

"Why, Your Majesty, I have some bad news for you," she said solemnly. "You see, Nadeshiko is..."

As she continued explaining to Yelan the web of lies she had just made up, Sonomi's insides boiled with anger.

She had worked for  _years_  trying to get her daughter the crown. And now – just when she was so close, all her efforts were close to being ruined.

By none other than her commoner, excuse-for-a-lady  _stepdaughter_ , Sakura!

Well, Sonomi reasoned, she had made sacrifices before, and she would continue to do so. Nobody could stop Meiling from getting the crown.  _Nobody._

Not even Sakura.

 _Oh Sakura_ , Sonomi thought vehemently.  _God help you after I'm through with you..._

* * *


	13. head over heels

 

**chapter thirteen. head over heels**

* * *

Sakura struggled to get to her feet. She knew this was stupid. She shouldn't have been up and about already. She should've been lying on her stomach on her pallet, resting. Her back was covered with weeping wounds, and her dressings needed time to set. But still she forced herself to stand. She swayed a little and sat down quickly, head in hands.

She needed to think.

It was past midday. Sonomi and Meiling had gone somewhere. Tomoyo was occupied with the sewing upstairs in her chamber. Meiling's room would be deserted and empty. She could lift a gown from there...

She had to see Syaoran. She had to tell him the truth. Enough was enough, she decided vehemently.  _I can't keep this up_.  _Sooner or later he's bound to find out. Might as well cut his losses and tell him now..._

Who cared if it felt like a dagger to the heart, twisting and twisting away? Who cared if it meant that by being honest, Sakura was throwing away the one thing in her life that gave her true joy?

 _He's the crown prince_ , she reminded herself.  _What chance did I ever have? It was all a lie, all of it. And after I tell him the truth, he'll hate me. Maybe even marry Meiling._

Just the thought of it caused her eyes to prickle dangerously. She rubbed them aggressively. No more crying. She'd done enough for one day. And for what reason? This stupid, fickle, airy obsession she'd developed for the prince. One happy night. That was all she had. And if that was enough to cause her so much pain...

 _I'm better off without it_ , Sakura told herself firmly.  _There's no way that I can be – in love with the prince. I have to tell him that. I have to end this before I lose my mind..._

* * *

She made her way slowly down the sharp slope of the ravine, just bordering the Daidouji estate. She had taken the liberty of borrowing one of Meiling's gowns, deciding that the demure maroon hue would be sufficient to mask the scars on her back. Her feet, hidden from view, were clad in her own sturdy work shoes. No one would see them...

She could see the ruins, just a little further down. An ancient building had once stood here, and its remains were scattered hither and thither. Faint outcrops of browning stone were slowly consumed by furry green mosses and creeping fronded weeds. The trees grew tall, the grass and wildflowers thick and savage. The whole place was wild and untamed. But Sakura admired it all the same.

She had never been down here. Not since her father died. Before – it had been a favourite hiding spot of hers, a recluse when Suki chased her with a mop for dirtying her shoes or fist-fighting with Yamazaki. She would race down the slope, quick as lightning, and scurry up her favourite tree. She'd hide in its branches, maybe with a book for company and lunching on the sweet fruit the tree bore...

Sakura smiled wistfully as she laid a palm on her old favourite tree, a sturdy apple tree in the midst of cedars and poplars. It had grown so tall, she wondered if she could still climb it. Then, her back gave a warning twinge, and she remembered why she was here. Her stomach curled into a knot.

_I'll wait there for you all day..._

He was here, somewhere. Sakura tried to imagine a younger Syaoran, maybe thirteen years of age, maybe practicing martial arts somewhere by the stony walls, or dangling upside down off a branch, or swimming in the lake...

She wondered when he had started to use these ruins as a recluse. Had he been there when she was younger? Maybe watching her scurry up a tree, nimble as a squirrel as he hid in the reeds? Had they unknowingly shared their childhood with the same trees, the same grass, the same worn out stony ruins...?

There was a slight crunch a slight distance behind her. Sakura turned around slowly.

He was standing there, as though he had been there the whole time. His serious amber eyes watched her, as though she was the only thing that existed in the world. His chestnut hair was windswept, as always. He was dressed simply, the soles of his shoes coated with mud. There was a small smile on his lips.

"Hello," he said simply.

Sakura blushed, the memory of the last night flooding her overwhelmingly.

"Hello," she returned, clasping her hands in front of herself.

"I was worried that you wouldn't come," he said, taking a step forward. "Are you well?"

Sakura nodded, words abandoning her. Her mind was screaming at her to tell him the truth immediately, but her heart, her stupid foolish oaf of a heart, was melting with joy at the mere sight of him. And with that look on his face – it made her ache even more inside, knowing that he had waited for her because he loved her. And at the same time, he only loved her because he thought she was Countess Nadeshiko Amamiya. Not Sakura. And how it hurt, to know that he would never love Sakura, never wait all day in an overgrown ravine for Sakura, never kiss Sakura the way he had kissed Nadeshiko...

Then, without warning, her mouth found words which she blurted out before her mind could process them.

"I am not myself today," she confessed.

Syaoran took another step forward, chuckling lightly. The sound of his deep laughter echoed in the base of Sakura's skull, numbing her all over. It felt as though her senses had been replaced by foaming, spritzing ale. It was a most curious, wonderful and unsettling feeling.

"It's such a feeling, isn't it?" he said with a sigh, taking yet another leisurely step forward. "I feel as though my skin is the only thing keeping me from going everywhere at once. So restless, so anxious...but at the same time, so calm."

He was barely two steps away from her.

 _Say it_ , Sakura's mind urged.  _Say it before it's too late._

"S – Syaoran," she stuttered, feeling herself grow tongue-tied as his intense amber gaze swept over her. "There's something I have to tell you."

"And I you," he answered, surprising her. He closed the distance between them and took her hand in his.

Physical contact was the last thing Sakura needed at the moment. The instant his hand touched hers, a thousand different sensations erupted, from the tips of her fingers to where Syaoran's hand carefully held her own. She was losing control. She was losing herself...

"I cannot stay long," she broke out. "I don't have much time."

"Time?" Syaoran asked gently. "Time waits for no one. It is up to you, to choose to scurry after it, panting like a fool, or measure your life by your own choices. What may seem a short while can actually be a whole life to live."

He pressed his lips to her fingers, his actions still governed by gentlemanly restraint.

"But I no longer imagine living it alone," he said softly. Amber met green, and hearts raced faster. Sakura was dizzy. Her head was no longer attached to her body -

 _Control_! Her mind shouted.  _You're losing your chance! Tell him now!_

"You're not making this easy," she said weakly, thinking of all she still had to say to him. Wishing with all her heart that she had never taken up the disguise of Countess Amamiya, or had ever met him, or had ever gone through that long day and that long night with him... It would have been easier for her if she had just told him the truth in the beginning. That way, she wouldn't be feeling this pain, this guilt -

"I had a revelation last night," Syaoran spoke softly. "It's more a project, inspired by you. Your passion, your ideals..."

He wasn't listening to her. He had fallen in too deep.

"I used to think that if I started to care about one thing, I'd have to care about everything," he continued. "But after meeting you...seeing you...knowing you...I've begun to believe that I can. I'm not just some lost boy in the woods anymore. I've found my purpose and I feel the – most – wonderful –  _freedom_."

Tears sprung to Sakura's eyes. There was no way she could – she couldn't tell him – she should – but she  _couldn't_  be that cruel.

"It wasn't me," she whispered, as his hands moved up her arms to rest on her shoulders. He leaned in close, resting his forehead against hers. Savouring the feeling of their bodies pressed close together, the feel of her dewy skin against his cheek, her breath tickling his neck, her heart beating against his...

"Nadeshiko," he said, and Sakura felt her heart break, longing for him to say her name and knowing that he never would, "you are the singularly most amazing woman I have ever met. And tonight, at the ball, I'll make it known to the world."

Sakura fought a sob, pressing her face into his neck.  _Help me..._ she thought desperately.  _There's no way out! Even the truth can't save me now..._

"Why...?" she fought for her voice, gasping for breath, " _Why_  did you have to be so wonderful?"

 _Why_? Why couldn't he have been like any other prince? Cold and conceited and selfish and superficial... Why did he have to be a perfect match for her, in every single way?

Syaoran shook his head, smiling, and wiped the tears off of her face.

"Now," he said gently, cupping her face with his hands, "what was it you wanted to tell me?"

 _Tell him_ , Sakura's mind urged.  _This is your last chance. Tell him that this is all a lie -_

She couldn't do it. She was brave and strong, but not nearly enough to look into the loving, hopeful eyes of Prince Syaoran and shatter the bright world of aspirations she had made for him. There was no way she could bring herself to destroy him like that. And she was afraid. So afraid. Of his anger and his sheer hopelessness and she  _didn't want to give him up_. But she had to tell him. She had to -

"Just that," she choked, hating herself more and more as each second passed, "that night – was the happiest night of my life."

There. She had sealed her doom and his happiness. They were in head over heels, and they couldn't stop -

Syaoran leaned in closer, pulling her tightly against him and touching his lips to hers.

Sakura saw stars dancing in front of her eyes as he kissed her. She couldn't resist, but she knew she should. She hated herself for enjoying this, hated herself for yielding to him. Hated herself as she parted her lips and allowed him access to the inside of her mouth. She despised herself as she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his arms encircle her waist  _tight_ , as though he would never let go. Her fingers toyed with his unruly hair, her body was melting into his as his mouth worked hers into a kiss that was making her insides shudder with pleasure and want. His hands began to wander, from her waist back up to her shoulders and then down -

" _Ah_!"

Sakura let out a gasp of pain as his hands brushed her bandaged, beaten back. Breaking away from him suddenly, she stood stock still, breathing heavily. Regaining her surroundings. Trying to tell up from down, and blinking the stars out of her eyes.

Her guilt intensified as she saw him standing there, so close to her, his eyes suddenly filled with concern and pain and  _so much love_. She couldn't keep doing this to him. To herself. To both of them.

"I have to go," she said, averting her eyes and turning away from him. It didn't matter where she went. Just as long as it was away from him.

Syaoran glanced at her, confused. Was she... _running away_?

"Wait!" he called, dashing after her. "Wait!"

Sakura felt tears slide down her face as she sped up her pace. She could hear his footsteps drawing nearer and nearer.

"Nadeshiko!" he cried, just behind her.

Sakura froze and whipped around. Unable to take the hurt anymore.

"No," she said, tears falling harder and faster down her face.  _Not Nadeshiko. Sakura._

Syaoran froze, trying to understand the myriad of emotions he saw running in Nadeshiko's tear-filled eyes. What was it she wanted to tell him? What secret was causing her so much pain? There was something unsettling in her giant green eyes as she stared at him, conveying so much and saying absolutely nothing at all -

The words were on her lips, ready to form off the tip of her tongue.

And then she saw hurt in his eyes. He was hurt. She had hurt him before even saying a word.

"Nadeshiko..." he repeated, almost pleadingly.

And it was to this Sakura's resolve finally surrendered to. She shook her head, turning on her heel and dashed away as fast as she could, leaving the prince far behind.

A sob escaped her lips. She slowed down gradually, her run turning into strides, which then turned into aimless, disconnected steps. Looking around to make sure she was alone, she seated herself on an overturned tree trunk and buried her head in her hands, crying softly.

_Not Nadeshiko. Sakura._

How could she ever tell him now?

* * *

 


End file.
